“Well, when you saw that hat, what did you do?”
“For quite a spell I didn’t do nothink. I was all blood-curdled, as you might sye. But by and by I creeps out, and down the steps, and there ’e was, all ’uddled every wye––”
His lip trembled. In trying to go on he produced only a few incoherent sounds. Reaching for his handkerchief, he blew his nose, before being able to say more.
“Well, the first thing I says to myself, miss, was, Is ’e dead? It was a terrible thing to sye of one that’s everythink in the world to me; but seein’ ’im there, all crumpled up, with one leg one wye, and the other leg another wye, and a harm throwed out ’elpless like—well, what was I to think? miss—and ’im not aible to sye a word, and me shykin’ like a leaf, and out of doors in my thin dressin’ gown—if I’d ’ad on my thick one I wouldn’t ’a’ felt so kind of shymeful like––”
“You might have known he wasn’t dead when you heard him breathing.”
“I didn’t think o’ that. I thought as ’e was. And when I see ’is poor harm stretched out so wild like I creeps nearer and nearer, and me ’ardly aible to move—I felt so bad—and I puts my finger on ’is pulse. Might as well ’ave put it on that there fender. Then I looks at ’is fyce and I see blood on ’is lip and ’is cheek. ‘Somethink’s struck ’im,’ I says; and then I just loses consciousness, and puts back my ’ead, as you’ll see a dog do when ’e ’owls, and I yells, ‘Police!’”
“Oh, you did that, did you?”
“I’m ashymed to sye it, miss, but I did; and who should come runnin’ along but the policeman what in the night goes up and down our beat. By that time 328 I’d got my ’and on ’is ’eart, and the policeman ’e calls out from a distance, ‘Hi, there! What you doin’ to that man?’ Thought I was murderin’ ’im, you see. I says, ‘My boy, ’e is, and I’m tryin’ to syve ’is life.’ Well, the policeman ’e sees I’m in my dressin’ gown, and don’t look as if I’d do ’im any ’arm, so ’e kind o’ picks up ’is courage, and blows ’is whistle, and another policeman ’e runs up from the wye of the Havenue. Then when there’s two of ’em they ain’t afryde no more, so that the first one ’e comes up to me quite bold like, and arsks me who’s killed, and what’s killed ’im, and I tells ’im ’ow I was layin’ awyke, with the winder open, and Mr. Rash bein’ out I couldn’t sleep like––”
“How long did they let him lie there?”