Mark, fatigued in mind and body; working
all the day and sitting up at night; worn with hard living and the
unaccustomed toil of his new life; surrounded by dismal and discouraging
circumstances of every kind; never complained or yielded in the least
degree. If ever he had thought Martin selfish or inconsiderate, or had
deemed him energetic only by fits and starts, and then too passive for
their desperate fortunes, he now forgot it all. He remembered nothing
but the better qualities of his fellow-wanderer, and was devoted to him,
heart and hand.
Many weeks elapsed before Martin was strong enough to move about with
the help of a stick and Mark's arm; and even then his recovery, for want
of wholesome air and proper nourishment, was very slow. He was yet in a
feeble and weak condition, when the misfourtune he had so much dreaded
fell upon them. Mark was taken ill.
Mark fought against it; but the malady fought harder, and his efforts
were in vain.
'Floored for the present, sir,' he said one morning, sinking back upon
his bed; 'but jolly!'
Floored indeed, and by a heavy blow! As any one but Martin might have
known beforehand.
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