“Let’s take him to the club.”
“We better take him to the doctor’s,” said another; and to the doctor’s—which, fortunately, was close at hand, otherwise Jack, as the rogue afterwards confessed to me, would not have been able to stand it any longer—he was brought.
His kind, but somewhat rough, aiders and sympathisers came very much nearer by their excited efforts to carry him through the crowd, which was pressing on them with all kinds of inquiries, doing him a greater harm than they imagined the runaway colt had done him. The doctor, who was the apothecary of the town, felt all Jack’s limbs, while that gentleman groaned as if every bone in his body was broken. But the astute disciple of Æsculapius having shaken his head, solemnly declared that he was very badly bruised, and that there might be possibly some internal complications.
He gave Jack a restorative which worked wonders. It caused him not only to regain his full consciousness, but had almost the effect of making him use some very vigorous language, but as he felt this would have been out of character, he discreetly checked himself.
He was taken to the hotel, the Ormond Arms, where he spent that night and the next day and night, and then allowed himself to be taken home to his uncle’s at the Grange.
Old William Jacob called several times at the hotel, and was profuse in his thanks to the preserver of his life, and also conveyed the thanks of his daughter. Mistress Dorothy. Jack had lingered, hoping that the old gentleman would bring the damsel to see him, but finding his hopes were vain, he became well enough to be removed.
After lying up at home for a week or more, Jack returned into the town, and by well contrived “accident” he met the pretty Quakeress as she was walking alone. As he approached he affected not to see her, and wore the woe-begone expression of an invalid. He kept looking up towards the sky in an apparently aimless sort of a way, until he came within a few feet of her. Then he suddenly dropped his eyes, and found, as he expected, that she was looking at his face.
She flushed all over as she saw that she was detected. Jack endeavoured to pretend that he was quite surprised at seeing her, and walking as if he would pass on, when he was just in front of her he lifted his hat, and was about to address her when her father appeared unexpectedly beside her, but fortunately Jack was able to convert the salute which he intended for the lady into a courteous recognition of the old gentleman, while with a covert glance he was able to convey to her that she was included in it.
“How dost thou do, friend?” said the old gentleman, “I am very pleased to see thee able to be about again.”
“Thank you, sir, you are very kind,” said Jack, “I was about to call on you to inquire if you had completely recovered from the shock.”