The Moonspinners Read Online Free PDF Page B

leave it alone. But you’ve a temperature, any fool could see that.’
    â€˜Out all night, that’s why. Lost a bit of blood . . . and it rained. Be all right soon . . . in a day or two.’ Suddenly he moved his head, a movement of the most violent and helpless impatience. I saw the muscles of his face twist, but not – I thought – with pain.
    I said feebly: ‘Try not to worry, whatever it is. If you can eat something now, you’ll be out of here all the sooner, and believe it or not, I’ve got a flask of hot coffee. Here’s Lambis coming now.’
    Lambis had brought all my things, and the newly rinsed mug. I took the cardigan from him, and knelt by the bed again.
    â€˜Put this round you.’ Mark made no protest when I took the rough jacket away, and tucked the warm, soft folds of wool round his shoulders. I spread the jacket over his legs. ‘Lambis, there’s a flask in the bag. Pour him some coffee, will you? Thanks. Now, can you lift up a bit? Drink this down.’
    His teeth chattered against the edge of the mug, and I had to watch to make sure he didn’t scald his mouth, so eagerly did he gulp at the hot stuff. I could almost imagine I felt it running, warming and vital, into his body. When he had drunk half of it he stopped, gasping a little, and the shivering seemed to be less.
    â€˜Now, try to eat. That’s too thick, Lambis; can you shred the meat up a bit? Break the crust off. Come on, now, can you manage this . . . ?’
    Bit by bit he got the food down. He seemed at once ravenously hungry, and reluctant to make the effort to eat. From the former fact I deduced thankfully that he was not yet seriously ill, but that, if he could be got to care and help, he would recover fairly quickly. Lambis stood over us, as if to make sure I didn’t slip poison into the coffee.
    When Mark had eaten all that could be forced into him, and drunk two mugs of coffee, I helped him lower himself back into the bedding, and tucked the inadequate covers round him once more.
    â€˜Now, go to sleep. Try to relax. If you could sleep, you’d be better in no time.’
    He seemed drowsy, but I could see him summoning the effort to speak. ‘Nicola.’
    â€˜What is it?’
    â€˜Lambis told you the truth. It’s dangerous. I can’t explain. But keep out of it . . . don’t want you thinking there’s anything you can do. Sweet of you, but . . . there’s nothing. Nothing at all. You’re not to get mixed up with us . . . Can’t allow it.’
    â€˜If I only understood—’
    â€˜I don’t understand myself. But . . . my affair. Don’t add to it. Please.’
    â€˜All right. I’ll keep out. If there’s really nothing I can do—’
    â€˜Nothing. You’ve done plenty.’ An attempt at a smile. ‘That coffee saved my life, I’m sure of that. Now go down to the village, and forget us, will you? Not a word to anyone. I mean that. It’s vital. I have to trust you.’
    â€˜You can.’
    â€˜Good girl.’ Suddenly I realized what his dishevelment and sickness had disguised before; he was very young, not much older, I thought, than myself. Twenty-two? Twenty-three? The drawn look and painfully tightened mouth had hidden the fact of his youth. It was, oddly enough, as he tried to speak with crisp authority that his youth showed through, like flesh through a gap in armour.
    He lay back. ‘You’d . . . better be on your way. Thanks again. I’m sorry you got such a fright . . . Lambis, see her down the hill . . . as far as you can . . .’
    As far as you dare  . . . Nobody had said it, but he might just as well have shouted it aloud. Suddenly, out of nowhere, fear jumped at me again, like the shadow dropping across the flowers. I said breathlessly: ‘I