And by this, our Barnabas,
opening drowsy eyes and hearkening with drowsy ears, judged it was
yet early morning.
He lay very still and full of a great content because of the glory
of the sun and the merry piping of the birds.
But, little by little, as he hearkened, he became conscious of
another sound, a very gentle sound, yet insistent because of its
regularity, a soft click! click! click! that he could in no wise
account for. Therefore he would have turned his head, and
straightway wondered to find this so difficult to accomplish;
moreover he became aware that he lay in a bed, undressed, and that
his arm and shoulder were bandaged. And now, all at once he forgot
the bird-song and the sunshine, his brow grew harassed and troubled,
and with great caution he lifted his free hand to his neck and began
to feel for a certain ribbon that should be there. And presently,
having found the ribbon, his questing fingers followed it down into
his bosom until they touched a little, clumsily-wrought linen bag,
that he had fashioned, once upon a time, with infinite trouble and
pains, and in which he had been wont to carry the dried-up wisp of
what had once been a fragrant, scarlet rose.
Pages:
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785