are many things in life that happen." And it is to be concluded that there are not.
Speculations as to Belmont were not left out of his thoughts. Truly there was something more and more malevolent in the man's conduct, however explainable. But he hoped that that chapter of their experience was ended as abruptly as it had begun.
He induced Gerald to take a light luncheon, feeding him, and coaxing down mouthful after mouthful and sip after sip with the gentleness and persistency of a hospital nurse. (That is, a hospital nurse of a certain kind. There are differences in hospital nurses, decidedly.) Gerald lay quiet for an hour or so afterward. But about three o'clock, when Philip returned from a stolen absence from his bedside (for the sake of their smoldering beacon and for a reconnoiter), he found the sick boy excited, though clear-headed, and needing any cheerfulness and distraction Philip's sitting down near him could bring.
"Nothing heard from them yet, these—Probascos?" he asked, rolling about on his pillow.
'Not yet. They may march in on us any time before tea."
