The Broad Highway

And presently, through the mist, her voice reached me.

"Oh, Peter! I will not leave you--lean on me there--there!"

And, little by little, those strong, gentle hands drew me up once

more to light and life. And so she got me to a chair, and brought

cool water, and washed the blood and sweat from me, as she had

once before, only now my hurts were deeper, for my head grew

beyond my strength to support, and hung upon my breast, and my

brain throbbed with fire, and the mist was ever before my eyes.

"Are you in much pain, Peter?"

"My head--only my head, Charmian--there is a bell ringing there,

no--it is a hammer, beating." And indeed I remembered little for

a while, save the touch of her hands and the soothing murmur of

her voice, until I found she was kneeling beside me, feeding me

with broth from a spoon. Wherefore I presently took the basin

from her and emptied it at a gulp, and, finding myself greatly

revived thereby, made some shift to eat of the supper she set

before me.

So she presently came and sat beside me and ate also, watching me

at each morsel.

"Your poor hands!" said she, and, looking down at them, I saw

that my knuckles were torn and broken, and the fingers much

swelled. "And yet," said Charmian, "except for the cut in your

head, you are quite unmarked, Peter."

"He fought mostly for the body," I answered, "and I managed to

keep my face out of the way; but he caught me twice--once upon

the chin, lightly, and once up behind the ear, heavily; had his

fist landed fairly I don't think even you could have brought me

back from those loathly depths, Charmian."

And in a while, supper being done, she brought my pipe, and

filled it, and held the light for me. But my head throbbed

woefully and for once the tobacco was flavorless; so I sighed,

and laid the pipe by.

"Why, Peter!" said Charmian, regarding me with an anxious frown,

"can't you smoke?"

"Not just now, Charmian," said I, and leaning my head in my

hands, fell into a sort of coma, till, feeling her touch upon my

shoulder, I started, and looked up.

"You must go to bed, Peter."

"No," said I.

"Yes, Peter."

"Very well, Charmian, yes--I will go to bed," and I rose.

"Do you feel better now, Peter?"