He had paid several visits there,
in the afternoon; but there was nought for him to do, and no comfort to
be gained from the white face of the insensible lad. Meg assured him,
however, that he was going on as well as could be expected.
"He is in a torpor, at present," she said; "and may so lie for two or
three days; but so long as there is no fever he will, I hope, know you
when he opens his eyes. There is nought to do but to keep wet cloths
round his head, and to put on a fresh poultice over the wound, every
hour."
Now Armstrong took his place by his son's pallet. For a time, the work
of making preparations for Oswald's departure, and of sending off
messages to his friends, had prevented his thoughts from dwelling upon
his loss. Throughout the night, the picture of his home, as he had left
it when he rode out that morning; and the thought that it was now an
empty shell, his wife dead, his daughters carried off, and his son
lying between life and death, came to him with full force, and well
nigh broke him down.
In the meantime, the little party were making across the hills, and
before morning they came upon the northern road, fifteen miles from the
Bairds' hold. Here Oswald and Roger dismounted.
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