“I’m afraid you have, by Jove!” said Gerard, in an awestruck whisper.
CHAPTER XXIII
Both the young men stood still for a moment, shocked beyond the power of speech at what Geoffrey had done.
But it was only for a moment. Then Gerard knelt down beside the huddled-up form of Reginald Candover, and laying a hand on his heart said:—
“I don’t think he is dead, after all. Look here! There’s a doctor who lives quite close—a Dr. Fendall. Go and fetch him. And mind you come back, there’s a good chap. We may want more help, and there’s nobody here but a parcel of silly, giggling girls.”
But Geoffrey was watching the face of the man whom for the first moment he thought he had killed, and he said:—
“It’s my belief that he’s not only alive, but that he’s shamming. He hears what we’re saying, I’ll swear.”
Gerard, however, was not so sanguine.
“Go and fetch the doctor, there’s a good chap,” said he. “And I’ll find some one to give me a hand, and we’ll get him on the sofa.”
Geoffrey went away, not quite happy, but putting on an air of bravado.