'Here he is,' he cried. 'Oh, my dear master, are you hurt bad?' and stooping over him he burst out crying.
'That won't do any good, lad,' the sailor said. 'Here, let us have a look at him. He has been stabbed, sure enough, Jack. He is just soaking with blood.'
'Is he dead, Bill?'
The sailor tried to turn the body over, but as he did so there was a faint moan.
'He ain't gone yet, that's clear. Who is he, boy?'
'He is Captain Hampton, an English gentleman. We only got in here this afternoon. He is staying at the Crescent City.'
'Well, we can't let him lie here. You stay here with him, Jack, and we will go off and get some one to carry him.'
In a few minutes the men returned with two constables carrying a stretcher; on this the body was placed, four of the sailors lifted it and carried it to the hotel, and then up to his room, where two surgeons were quickly in attendance. Jacob stood by listening with breathless anxiety to their talk as they examined his master.
'Will he die, sir?' he asked, in a broken voice, as they rose from the examination.
'No, I reckon he hasn't had his call this time, but it has been a close thing. What was he doing when he was struck?'