The Forsyte Saga - Volume 2 - Page 195/238

Jolly was tired to death of dreams. They had left him now too wan and

weak to dream again; left him to lie torpid, faintly remembering far-off

things; just able to turn his eyes and gaze through the window near his

cot at the trickle of river running by in the sands, at the straggling

milk-bush of the Karoo beyond. He knew what the Karoo was now, even if

he had not seen a Boer roll over like a rabbit, or heard the whine of

flying bullets. This pestilence had sneaked on him before he had smelled

powder. A thirsty day and a rash drink, or perhaps a tainted fruit--who

knew? Not he, who had not even strength left to grudge the evil thing

its victory--just enough to know that there were many lying here with

him, that he was sore with frenzied dreaming; just enough to watch

that thread of river and be able to remember faintly those far-away

things....

The sun was nearly down. It would be cooler soon. He would have liked

to know the time--to feel his old watch, so butter-smooth, to hear the

repeater strike. It would have been friendly, home-like. He had not even

strength to remember that the old watch was last wound the day he began

to lie here. The pulse of his brain beat so feebly that faces which came

and went, nurse's, doctor's, orderly's, were indistinguishable, just

one indifferent face; and the words spoken about him meant all the same

thing, and that almost nothing. Those things he used to do, though far

and faint, were more distinct--walking past the foot of the old steps

at Harrow 'bill'--'Here, sir! Here, sir!'--wrapping boots in the

Westminster Gazette, greenish paper, shining boots--grandfather coming

from somewhere dark--a smell of earth--the mushroom house! Robin Hill!

Burying poor old Balthasar in the leaves! Dad! Home....

Consciousness came again with noticing that the river had no water in

it--someone was speaking too. Want anything? No. What could one want?

Too weak to want--only to hear his watch strike....

Holly! She wouldn't bowl properly. Oh! Pitch them up! Not sneaks!...

'Back her, Two and Bow!' He was Two!... Consciousness came once more

with a sense of the violet dusk outside, and a rising blood-red

crescent moon. His eyes rested on it fascinated; in the long minutes of

brain-nothingness it went moving up and up....

"He's going, doctor!" Not pack boots again? Never? 'Mind your form,

Two!' Don't cry! Go quietly--over the river--sleep!... Dark? If somebody

would--strike--his--watch!...