“That is nothing,” he said, with a smile; “I think you had better not talk.”
But Bessie did not agree with him, evidently.
“He saved my life—this gentleman, Miss Olivia!” she panted. “I was just falling under the wheel when he stopped Toby, and I saw him go down.” She shuddered. “Yes, Miss Olivia, he saved my life, he did!” and her large, innocent eyes fixed themselves on Mr. Faradeane, and filled with tears.
He smiled.
“You will be quite ashamed of talking such nonsense when you have recovered, Miss Bessie,” he said. “Now drink this, will you, please?” and he held a flask of brandy to her lips.
She sipped it obediently, her brown eyes fixed upon his with the gratitude, the devotion which one sees in a dumb animal often enough, but in a human, alas! only too seldom. Then, with a sigh, she turned her face away, and closed her eyes.
Mr. Faradeane stood upright.
“She will be all right now,” he said. “No bones are broken, thank Heaven! It was the shock as much as the blow on the forehead that stunned her.”
There was a step on the stair, and the local doctor entered.
Mr. Faradeane drew him aside, and gave a short and succinct account of the accident.