CHAPTER XXVI.
LOST AND FOUND.
When Cosmo came to himself, he had not a notion where he was, hardly indeed knew what he was.

His chief consciousness was of an emptiness and a weight combined, that seemed to paralyze him.

He would have turned on his side, but felt as if a ponderous heap of bed-clothes prevented him from even raising an arm--and yet he was cold.

He tried to think back, to find what he knew of himself last, but could for a long time recall only a confused dream of multitudinous discomfort and painful effort.

At last, however, came the garden, the spade-work, and the old man's talk; and then it seemed as if the cracked complaining voice had never left his ears.
"I've been ill!" he said to himself.