Howden stayed behind and helped to restore Lucius to consciousness. "It's rot his tackling a chap like Pips," he said; "he's not in the same class with him, and he's a demon when he's roused. I wouldn't care to take him on myself."
"He's a d—d cad," said Dizzy, in deep concern, "and I don't care if he hears me say so."
This was the only conversation that passed between them till Lucius came round. Then they both helped him across to his own rooms in Whewell's Court, which they reached with some difficulty, as Lucius was dazed, and as weak as a kitten. Here the drama changed from tragedy to farce, for Mr. Binney was waiting for them, and as soon as he saw the state to which Lucius had been reduced he made such lamentations that neither Dizzy nor Howden could help laughing.
"Oh, chuck it, Binney," said Howden. "He'll be all right when he gets to bed."
"Go out and get a doctor, Mr. Binney," said Dizzy. "He's cut his head with some broken glass, and we can't stop the bleeding."
Mr. Binney dashed out instantly in a frenzy of terror, and Howden and Dizzy helped Lucius off with his clothes and into bed, where he lay silent with his face to the wall, while the blood slowly oozed out from under the bandages on his head and soaked into his pillow. The two stood looking at him irresolutely.
"I'm all right now," said Lucius faintly, "you needn't wait." They went into the sitting-room.
"Look here, sir," said Dizzy. "You must stop this business. It's gone quite far enough."
"My dear fellow," said Howden, "I didn't have anything to do with it. I told Piper he ought to stop it when Binney wrote to object, because—well, because Binney ain't a bad old chap after all, and it's rough on him. But he wouldn't, and it isn't likely he'll stop now, after this."
"Well, if he won't stop it of his own accord, he'll have to be made to," said Dizzy.