"Be good enough to let me know every day how the boy is," he said to the clergyman, ere quitting Rayleigh for London; "and draw upon my purse for whatever he wants. If you think it well, I will send down a surgeon from London. I cannot forget that he has saved my life."
"Thank you," said Mr. Mouncey. "I will see to it that Gus wants for nothing. He has many friends who will be only too happy to do everything in their power for him."
"Who is he?" asked Mr. Darnell quickly. "I mean, what do you know of his history before he came to Rayleigh?"
"Nothing," said Mr. Mouncey, "except that his father was an educated man, who had sunk into the lowest depths of poverty."
"Ah," said Darnell, his colour deepening as he spoke; "was, you say; then his father is dead?"
"Yes," replied Mr. Mouncey; and no more was said about Gus.
That night, the high fever, which had been one of the gravest symptoms of Gus' condition, began to subside, and in the morning he was conscious. But he was very weak, and at first could remember little of what had happened. The awful fire, his gallant rescue of Philip Darnell, and the danger he had shared with him, seemed all part of the delirium through which he had been passing. But gradually things became clearer to him.
"There was a fire, was there not?" he said to Mr. Mouncey as he sat beside him. "I did not dream it?"
"No," said his friend; "there was indeed a fire. The Mill House was completely burned; there is nothing left of it but the walls."
"Ah, then it is as I think," said Gus; "there was a fire, and I got in at the window and I woke him—and then afterwards I fell, and that was how my leg was broken. But he did not fall, did he?"