"Drive slowly," said the colonel to his coachman, "and call at Dr. Jones's on your way. Can you spare time to come as far as Nantmyny?" he said, addressing Will.
"Oh! yes, sir, certainly," he answered in good English.
"Tis the right foot, I think," said the old gentleman, unbuttoning the boot.
The girl opened her eyes.
"Oh! uncle, it hurts," she said. "Keep it up," and catching sight of
Will, she looked inquiringly at her uncle.
"Tis the young man who saved your life, child," he explained.
"Oh! not that, sir," said Will. "I am sorry I have not even prevented her being hurt."
At first there was a pompous stiffness in Colonel Vaughan's manner, but he added more graciously:
"I hope you were not hurt yourself. Bless me! is that blood on your hand?"
"I have cut my wrist a little, but 'tis nothing," said Will. "Please not to think about it."