He often recurred to a girl he called Mary, and said a few gentle words to her; then off again into the wildest flights. While Mr. Hawes and his myrmidons were laughing at him, he suddenly fixed his eyes on some imaginary figure on the opposite wall and began to cry out loudly, “Take him down. Don't you see you are killing him? The collar is choking him! See how White he is! His eyes stare! The boy will die! Murder! murder! murder! I can't bear to see him die.” And with these words he buried his head in the bedclothes. Mr. Hawes looked at Mr. Fry; Mr. Fry answered the look. “He must have seen Josephs the other day.” “Ay! he is mighty curious. Well, when he gets well!” and, shaking his fist at the sufferer, Mr. Hawes went out of the cell soon after. CHAPTER XI. “WHAT is your report about No. 19, doctor?” “The fever is gone.” “He is well, then?” “He is well of the fever, but a fever leaves the patient in a state of debility for some days. I have ordered him meat twice a day--that is, meat once and soup once.” “Then you report him cured of his fever?” “Certainly.” “Hodges, put No. 19 on the crank.” “Yes, sir.” Even the surgeon opened his eyes at this. “Why, he is as weak as a child,” said he. “Will it kill him?” “Certainly not; and for the best of all reasons. He can't possibly do it.” “You don't know what these fellows can do when they are forced.” The surgeon shrugged his shoulders and passed on to his other patients. Robinson was taken out into the yard. “What a blessing the fresh air is!” said he, gulping in the atmosphere of the yard. “I should have got well long ago if I had not been stifled in my cell for want of room and air.” Robinson went to the crank in good spirits; he did not know how weak he was till he began to work; but he soon found out he could not do the task in the time. He thought therefore the wisest plan would be not to exhaust himself in vain efforts, and he sat quietly down and did nothing. In this posture he was found by Hawes and his myrmidons. “What are you doing there not working?” “Sir, I am only just getting well of a fever, and I am as weak as water.” “And that is why you are not trying to do anything, eh?” “I have tried, sir, and it is impossible. I am not fit to turn this heavy crank.” “Well, then, I must try if I can't make you. Fetch the jacket.” “Oh! for Heaven's sake don't torture me, sir. There is nobody more willing to work than I am. And if you will but give me a day or two to get my strength after the fever, you shall see how I will work.” “There! there! ---- your palaver! Strap him up.”