My Arm Has Stopped Bleeding,
And They Won't Find Out.
If they notice that I can't use it - well, I
can just say I had a knock."
He was immensely relieved, and so pleased that he patted me on the
back - the first time he had ever done so - and praised me for my
manliness in taking it that way; and to be praised by him was such a
rare and precious thing that I felt very proud, and began to think I
was almost as good as a fighter myself. And when all traces of blood
had been removed and we were back in the house and at the supper-
table, I was unusually talkative and hilarious, not only to prevent
any one from suspecting that I had just been seriously wounded in a
fight with knives, but also to prove to my brother that I could take
these knocks with proper fortitude. No doubt he was amused; but he
didn't laugh at me, he was too delighted to escape being found out.
There were no more fights with knives, although when my wound was
healed he did broach the subject again on two or three occasions, and
was anxious to convince me that it would be greatly to our advantage
to know how to defend ourselves with a knife while living among people
who were always as ready on any slight provocation to draw a knife on
you as a cat was to unsheathe its claws. Nor could all he told us
about the bloody and glorious deeds of Jack _el Matador_ arouse any
enthusiasm in me; and though in his speech and manner Jack was as
quiet and gentle a being as one could meet, I could never overcome a
curious shrinking, an almost uncanny feeling, in his presence,
particularly when he looked straight at me with those fine eyes of
his.
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