I tried to get up, but turned giddy.
“Lie still, my lad,” he said kindly. “Don’t disturb him, Brownsmith. Good-bye, my lad! I’ll see you again.”
He shook hands with me and went to the door.
“Well,” he said sharply, “are you going to shake hands with the brave fellow who saved your brother’s life?”
The next moment I saw young Philip at my side, and he took my hand in his, which felt cold and damp like the tail of a cod-fish.
“If he seems to change in any way,” said the voice I had heard before, “send for me directly; but I think he will be all right in an hour or two. I’m going up to the house.”
“Who’s that?” I said sharply.
“The doctor, my lad,” said Mr Solomon.
“But I’m not ill,” I said. “What was it? Did I fall into the water?”
“Foul air overcame you, my lad. How do you feel?”