XXIII

The Will

He came to himself slowly and confusedly. A strong light was glaring into his eyes, and he could hear voices, voices which he did not recognize, all about him. He seemed to be lying on the floor, his shoulders supported in somebody’s arms.

Gradually he began to distinguish words and sentences. “This one’s coming round, I believe.” “All right, the doctor’ll be here in a minute.” “T’other one’s gone, I’m afraid. I can’t feel his pulse at all.” “Here, help me to clear this plaster off him, somebody. The explosion seems to have brought the ceiling down. It’s a wonder it didn’t blow the roof off. Have you got that gas turned off at the main yet?” “Ah, here’s the doctor. Been a bit of a smash here, doctor. Gas explosion, from what I can see of it. Two hurt, one of ’em killed, I fancy. Take this one first, will you?”

The Professor saw a face peering into his own. “Well, my friend, what’s happened to you? Blown up, eh? Let’s have a look at you. Any bones broken? Doesn’t look like it. Can you move your legs? Good. Any pain anywhere?”