d I feel as if I was
falling through it all.'

'Steady does it.' Torpenhow put his arm round Dick and began to rock him
gently to and fro.

'That's good. Now don't talk. If I keep very quiet for a while, this
darkness will lift. It seems just on the point of breaking. H'sh!' Dick
knit his brows and stared desperately in front of him. The night air was
chilling Torpenhow's toes.

'Can you stay like that a minute?' he said. 'I'll get my dressing-gown
and some slippers.'

Dick clutched the bed-head with both hands and waited for the darkness
to clear away. 'What a time you've been!' he cried, when Torpenhow
returned. 'It's as black as ever. What are you banging about in the
door-way?'

'Long chair,--horse-blanket,--pillow. Going to sleep by you. Lie down
now; you'll be better in the morning.'

'I shan't!' The voice rose to a wail. 'My God! I'm blind! I'm blind, and
the darkness will never go away.' He made as if to leap from the bed,
but Torpenhow's arms were round him, and Torpenhow's chin was on his
shoulder, and his breath was squeezed out of him. He could only gasp,
'Blind!' and wriggle feebly.

'Steady, Dickie, steady!' said the deep voice in his ear, and the grip
tightened. 'Bite on the bullet, old man, and don't let them think you're
afraid,' The grip could draw no closer. Both men were breathing heavily.

Dick threw his head from side to side and groaned.

'Let me go,' he panted. 'You're cracking my ribs. We-we mustn't let them
think we're afraid, must we,--all the powers of darkness and that lot?'

'Lie down. It's all over now.'

'Yes,' said Dick, obediently. 'But would you mind letting me hold your
hand? I feel as if I wanted something to hold on to. One drops through
the dark so.'

Torpenhow thrust out a large and hairy paw from the long chair. Dick
clutched it tightly, and in half an hour had fallen asleep. Torpenhow
withdrew his hand, and, stooping over Dick, kissed him lightly on the
forehead, as men do sometimes kiss a wounded comrade in the hour of
death, to ease his departure.

In the gray dawn Torpenhow heard Dick talking to himself. He was adrift
on the shoreless tides of delirium, speaking very quickly--'It's a
pity,--a great pity; but it's helped, and it must be eaten, Master
George. Sufficient unto the day is the blindness thereof, and, further,
putting aside all Melancolias and false humours, it is of obvious
notoriety--such as mine was--that the queen can do no wrong. Torp
doesn't