The things we do!

Clots of blood had formed in the bruised
and broken mass, in colour like the dregs of wine.
There was both contusion and suffusion of the brain. His breathing
was slow, and some spasmodic movements of the muscles agitated his face.
I felt his pulse. It was intermittent. The extremities of the body
were growing cold already, and I saw death must inevitably ensue.
After dressing the unfortunate man's wounds, I readjusted the bandages
on his head, and turned to Captain Nemo.
"What caused this wound?" I asked.
"What does it signify?" he replied, evasively. "A shock has
broken one of the levers of the engine, which struck myself.
But your opinion as to his state?"
I hesitated before giving it.
"You may speak," said the Captain. "This man does not understand French."
I gave a last look at the wounded man.
"He will be dead in two hours."
"Can nothing save him?"
"Nothing."
Captain Nemo's hand contracted, and some tears glistened in his eyes,
which I thought incapable of shedding any.
For some moments I still watched the dying man, whose life ebbed slowly.


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