Mr. Wilks closed his eyes with a snap and his heart turned to water. He
held his breath and ran-sacked his brain in vain for a reply which should
ignore the inner meaning of the fatal words. Something careless and
jocular he wanted, combined with a voice which should be perfectly under
control. Failing these things, he kept his eyes closed, and, very
wide-awake indeed, feigned sleep. He slept straight away from eleven
o'clock in the morning until Edward Silk came in at seven o'clock in the
evening.

"I feel like a new man," he said, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"I don't see no change in your appearance," said the comforting youth.

"'E's much better," declared his mother. "That's what comes o' good
nursing; some nurses would 'ave woke 'im up to take food, but I just let
'im sleep on. People don't feel hunger while they're asleep."

She busied herself over the preparation of a basin of arrowroot, and the
steward, despite his distaste for this dish, devoured it in a twinkling.
Beef-tea and a glass of milk in addition failed to take more than the
edge off his appetite.

"We shall pull 'im through," said Mrs. Silk, smiling, as she put down the
empty glass. "In a fortnight he'll be on 'is feet."

It is a matter of history that Mr. Wilks was on his feet at five o'clock
the next morning, and not only on his feet but dressed and ready for a
journey after such a breakfast as he had not made for many a day. The
discourtesy involved in the disregard of the doctor's instructions did
not trouble him, and he smirked with some satisfaction as he noiselessly