That will make you sleep." Marietta seemed to feel the pain herself.

She smoothed the leathern cushion under his head as well as she could, and softly touched his forehead.

It was hot and dry now.
"He is feverish," she said to Nella anxiously.
"I will bring him barley water with the syrup of poppies.

What do you expect?
Do you think that such a wound and such a burn are cooling to the blood, and refreshing to the brain?
The man is badly hurt.

Of course he is feverish.