Maggie gave vent to an exclamation of mingled pity and disappointment, and the Squire observed,—
"It's evidently a case of starvation. From the look of him, I should imagine that the young scamp has kept away as long as he could hold out. If Blazer hadn't happened to find him, he would have died here before night."
The sound of voices roused Bill again. His eyes opened, and he drew another long breath. Then suddenly a look of bewilderment came over his face. "Where 'm I got to?" he asked excitedly.
But before any one could answer, he had recognised the Squire. The bewildered look gave place to one of terror, and Bill made a desperate effort at scrambling to his feet; but he had long since reached the point when starved and exhausted nature could do no more. He only fell back upon the bank with a sick and dizzy sensation, and his eyelids closed again.
"Lie still, my boy," said the Squire kindly. "You must have something to eat. You're starving."
Bill put his hand to his waist-belt. He had ceased to remember that he was hungry; but the Squire's words brought back the craving. He recollected how he had felt before he swooned.
"Have either of you anything eatable about you?"' asked the Squire, turning to Hal and Maggie. "A sweetmeat, or a bit of biscuit; anything that he could suck or munch."
Hal had not. He was not a boy who cared for sweets. Maggie, however, produced a chocolate drop, given her over the counter by the grocer's man.
"But what is that when he's starving!" exclaimed she.
"All the better," returned the Squire. "In his present state, it would be dangerous to give him much. But you may run home," added he, as Bill eagerly took the tiny mouthful and crunched it up. "Run home—you can find your way?—And bring cup of bread or biscuit sopped in milk—or water, if you can't find milk; be as quick as ever you can. The poor boy is nearly starved."