Charlie had been long enough in the country to know, by the
appearance of the room, that he was in a peasant's hut. He wondered
why he had been brought there, and concluded that it must be
because Allan Ramsay had set so stringent a search on foot in the
city, that they considered it necessary to take him away.
"They will not keep me here long," he said to himself. "I am sure
that I could walk now, and, in another two or three days, I shall
be strong enough to go some distance. That soup has done me a deal
of good. I believe half my weakness is from hunger."
He no longer kept up the appearance of unconsciousness, and, in the
morning, put various questions, to the man who spoke Swedish, as to
what had happened and how he came to be there. This man was
evidently, from his dress and appearance, a Jew, while the other
was as unmistakably a peasant, a rough powerfully-built man with an
evil face. The Jew gave him but little information, but told him
that in a day or two, when he was strong enough to listen, a friend
would come who would tell him all about it.
On the third day, he heard the sound of an approaching horse, and
was not surprised when, after a conversation in a low tone outside,
Ben Soloman entered. Charlie was now much stronger, but he had
carefully abstained from showing any marked improvement, speaking
always in a voice a little above a whisper, and allowing the men to
feed him, after making one or two pretended attempts to convey the
spoon to his mouth.
Pages:
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252