“‘Come, come! hold up, sir. It’s not so bad as that. There, drink some of this.’
“I drank some of the water the inspector held to my lips, and two constables who had been supporting me drew back.
“‘I’ve been very ill,’ I stammered, ‘and I am weak; but tell me, pray tell me the worst.’
“‘Well, sir, the worst is that the young lady’s getting better, I hope. That was the last report, if it’s the same. She was knocked down by a van on the fifteenth; concussion of the brain; small bone of arm broken; no means of identification; taken to Saint George’s Hospital; last news, still insensible, but doctors hopeful.’
“This principally read to me from a book which the inspector consulted.
“‘A cab, please, quick!’ I faltered.
“‘Cab directly, Thomson,’ said the inspector.—‘There, I’ll go with you.’
“That inspector holds a place in my heart amongst those to whom I owe gratitude, for he was very kind. He took me, trembling and agitated, to the hospital, and there, after a short delay, we were taken to a bedside in a small, beautifully clean, and airy ward, where a doctor was sitting by my darling, who lay there very feeble, but with the light of reason beginning to shine once more from her gentle eyes.
“She recognised me, but her voice was quite a whisper, and I could see that she was confused and puzzled as to her presence there.
“I need not tell you of her rapid strides back to convalescence, nor more of her accident than that all she recollected was a warning cry as she crossed the road, and then seeming to wake in the hospital with me standing at her side.