Chapter 28
“IT’S A LITTLE AFTER THE TIME YOU TOLD ME TO WAKE YOU, SIR. YOU DID not come out of it as quick as common, sir.”
The voice was the voice of my man Sawyer. I started bolt upright in bed and stared around. I was in my underground chamber. The mellow light of the lamp which always burned in the room when I occupied it illumined the familiar walls and furnishings. By my bedside, with the glass of sherry in his hand which Dr. Pillsbury prescribed on first rousing from a mesmeric sleep, by way of awakening the torpid physical functions, stood Sawyer.
“Better take this right off, sir,” he said, as I stared blankly at him. “You look kind of flushed like, sir, and you need it.”
I tossed off the liquor and began to realize what had happened to me. It was, of course, very plain. All th
