the prison hospital, as one seeks after one's heaven.

It is so puffed up of my friend to think that his and his "movement's"
are the only eyes to see the vision of horror. Why, these others _are_
the vision!

This afternoon I was put at splints again.

I only had an inch or two to finish and I spun it out, very happy.

Presently the foot of a bed near me began to catch my attention: the toe
beneath the sheets became more and more agitated, then the toes of the
other foot joined the first foot, beating a frenzied tattoo beneath the
coverings. I looked up.

Facing me a pair of blue eyes were bulging above an open mouth, the
nostrils were quivering, the fingers were wrung together. It was Gayner,
surely seeing a ghost.

I rose and went to his bed.

"My jaws want to close," he muttered. "I can't keep them open."

I jumped and went for Sister, who took the news in a leisurely fashion,
which reproved me for my excitement. Feeling a fool, I went and sat down
again, taking up my splint. But there was no forgetting Gayner.

I tried to keep my eyes on my work, but first his toes and then his
hands filled all my mind, till at last I had to look up and meet the
eyes again.

Still looking as though he had seen a ghost--a beast of a ghost...! In
hospital since Mons.... "I wonder how many men he has seen die of
tetanus?" I thought.

"He's got the jumps," I thought.

So had I. Suppose Sister was wrong! Suppose the precious minutes were
passing! Suppose...! She was only the junior Sister.

"Shall I get you some water?" I said at last. He nodded, and gulped in a
horrible fashion. I got him the mug, and while he drank I longed, but
did not dare, to say, "Are you afraid of ... that?" I thought if one
could say the word it might break down that dumb fright, draw the flesh
up again over those bulging eyes, give him a sort of anchor, a
confessional, even if it was only me. But I didn't dare. Gayner is one
of those men so pent up, so rigid with some inner indignation, one
cannot tamper with the locks.

Again I went and sat down.

When next I looked up he was sweating. He beckoned to me: "Ask Sister to
send for the doctor. I can't stand this."

I went and asked her.

She sucked her little finger thoughtfully.

"Give him the thermometer," she said. He couldn't take it in his mouth,
" ... for if I shut my lips they'll never open." I put it under his arm
and waited while his feet kicked and his hands twisted. He was n