Nettie heeded none of them; she sprang out and down the bank, and in a moment was kneeling by Alvar’s side, who lay senseless. She had lifted his head and unfastened his collar, before her brothers were beside her.
“No, no; I’ll do it,” she cried, pushing Jack’s hand aside.
“Hush, Nettie, nonsense; let us lift him up. Get some water.”
There were a few moments of exceeding terror, how few they never could believe, as they carried Alvar to smooth ground, and tried to revive him, before he opened his eyes, looked round, and after a minute or two, said faintly,—
“What has happened? Ah—I remember,” trying to sit up. “Are they safe?”
“Yes—yes—but you? Oh, Alvar, are you killed?” cried Nettie.
“No, no,” said Alvar, “my arm is hurt a little. I think it is sprained—it is nothing. Do not let Cherry be frightened.”
“I never thought of him!” said Jack. “Oh, he won’t know anything of it—he is not here. You are sure your arm is not broken?”
“No. Ah, there he is! Help me up, Jack! Cherry, it is nothing.”
Cheriton, who had been considerately summoned with the news of a dreadful accident, but they hoped Mr Lester was not killed, was speechless with mingled terror and relief. He knelt down by Alvar’s side, and took his hand, hardly caring to ask a question as to how the accident had come about; but now Sir John Hubbard’s voice broke in,—