“I hope it may prove so, but he is surely receiving something from below—he sees us—he will be down—he will assuredly break his neck!” exclaimed the doctor, hurriedly. “There—quick, Hamilton—run.”
Hamilton needed no bidding, for, as soon as he saw Louis fall, he ran off in the direction of the stable-yard. The doctor followed so quickly that Hamilton had only just raised Louis from the ground when he came up. To their great satisfaction he was not much hurt, having fallen on a heap of straw that lay just under the wall. He was much frightened, and at first so stunned as to be almost incapable of understanding what was said to him. On the ground near him lay his green baize bag, and rolling about in all directions, some apples, one or two still remaining in the bag.
“Where is your companion, sir?” was the first question Dr. Wilkinson asked, after ascertaining that no injury had been done to Louis.
“There was no one with me, sir,” replied Louis, almost inarticulately.
“What were you doing here, sir?”
“I came to fetch my bag, sir.”
“It is a mercy you were not killed,” said Dr. Wilkinson, gravely. “Put the apples in that bag, Hamilton.”
Dr. Wilkinson waited till Hamilton had performed this task, and then desired Louis to take the bag and follow him.
Louis did as he was desired, but he was evidently not yet in a condition to walk, and trembled so violently that Hamilton caught hold of him to prevent him from falling.
“He can't walk yet, sir,” he said, compassionately. “I will bring him in when he has recovered a little.”