I was not out of my mind altogether; I had sense and memory in a sort of way. I used to know the people, and understand what they said, and speak to them, although there might not be much coherence in my speech sometimes. But there was never as much as a single word to be heard out of your mouth. From what I am told, I don't think that as much as a single word came from your lips from the day you fell sick until you spoke to-day to Art's daughter Mary. Not only that, but one would think that you had no feeling in you. You took no notice of anything. Nobody thought you would recover. The priest was here very often, and he failed to get a word out of you. I dare say it won't be long until he will be here now, and I promise you he will be surprised and glad. Everybody will be surprised and glad, for nobody had any hope of your recovery. But indeed you have thrown it off, great thanks to God for it! Anyone looking at you now would never think you were the same man who was there yesterday. No one was able to make out what was the matter with you. The nurse said it was brain fever, but I don't think anybody believed her. The priest sent two or three doctors here during the time to see if they could do anything for you. None of them did anything but look at you and go away. You never saw such a state of bewilderment as we were all in."
So Shiana gathered the truth of the matter from one neighbour and another, and at length it was borne in upon him that no doubt the time had been passed, in whatever way room was found for it. But how the room was found, or how more than three weeks could have been spent while there were, in
