CHAPTER XV.
GEORGE HARRISON AND HIS HISTORY.
Many days passed over me of which I was totally unconscious.

A violent fever had set in, and I was not aware of my situation; scarcely of the bodily sufferings I endured.

My wants were ministered to by the kindest, truest friend that ever soothed the miseries of the unfortunate.
Fancying myself still under the control of Robert Moncton, and a resident beneath his roof, I raved continually of my wrongs, and exhausted myself by threats of vengeance.

Long before the crisis of the fever had passed, George had gathered from my impotent ravings the story of my injuries.

After fluctuating a long time between life and death, youth and a naturally strong constitution conquered my malady, and I once more thought and felt like a rational creature.