"Why, because he will only pull through this to get killed in some other scrape, and before he can get into anything else he will have to answer for this one. You know how he was hurt?" "No, I don't know anything about it." "He robbed a fellow in the night, and the man chased him and shot him, and finding that he still ran, knocked him down with the butt end of his pistol, threw it at him; that is the worst hurt he had. And he is an old customer, for this blow opened an old place; it isn't the first time he has been caught. I've just trepanned it--quite a serious operation under the circumstances." "And the pistol wounds?" "Nothing but scratches; they won't hurt." "Well, he is a human creature, with an immortal soul, and I shall take care of him, anyhow. There is nobody else to do it, so I intend to," I said as calmly as I could, after all this terrible information, which had shaken me none the less for the doctor's indifferent tone and manner. "Very well, ma'am, I wish you success. There's nothing to do now but keep him quiet until I come back after breakfast." I walked in alone and looked at the still, white face under the bandages. He was evidently under the influence of a heavy opiate, for there was no sign of life, except the faint breathing. I could not help feeling a great pity for the young man, so friendless and so indifferently regarded, and with such a future to look forward to in his recovery. No clue could be found to his past or his family, if he had any. I took it as more than mere accident that he had fallen thus helpless and suffering into my hands, and resolved to use to the utmost my skill and influence for the best. He lay for a good many days--I cannot tell just how many--in a comatose condition, and I did not for a moment relax my watch, except to take a little rest now and then. At length there began to be signs of returning consciousness. The dull eyes would open and gaze vacantly around the room. He could utter a few incoherent words, and the hands groped in a troubled way among the bed-clothes. And day by day, as the bronze tint of the skin disappeared, and the features grew clearer and thinner, that marvellous likeness grew stronger, until, looking at him, I rubbed my eyes sometimes, and believed myself the victim of an hallucination. One morning, at length, he opened his eyes, and looked at me with a new intelligence, an attentiveness that I had never seen in him before. As he lay there with bright open eyes the likeness was simply intolerable, as I thought of the career that he represented. I busied myself in bringing the basin of water and sponge to bathe his face and hands. He was evidently trying to recall the circumstances of his injury and account for his presence there, for he looked in turn at me and the room, and then at the bed in which he lay. "Mrs. Spencer, I cannot think how you come to be here. Was I much hurt?"