For a few minutes the heat and pressure were suffocating, and as Frank and his companion were twisted round and borne backward, the former felt a peculiar sensation of giddy faintness, the walls swam round, the shouting sounded distant, and he was only half-conscious when, in company with those around, he was shot out of the narrow entrance of the court; and then the terrible pressure ceased.
Chapter Four.
Frank’s Eyes begin to Open.
Everything else seemed to the boy to cease at the same time, till he became conscious of feeling cold and wet, and heard a voice speaking:
“And him quite a boy too. I wonder what his mother would say.—Here, drink this, my dear; and don’t you never go amongst the crazy, quarrelsome wretches again. I don’t know what we’re coming to with their fighting in the streets. It isn’t safe to go out, that it isn’t. Drink it all, my dear; you’ll feel better then. I always feel faint myself if I get in a crowd.”
Frank had heard every word, with a peculiar dreamy feeling that he ought to listen and know who the boy was so addressed. Then he became conscious that it was he who was drinking from a mug of water held to his lips; and, opening his eyes, he looked up into a pleasant, homely face bending over him in an open doorway, upon whose step he was sitting, half leaning against the doorpost, half against the woman who was kneeling at his side.
“Ah, that’s better,” said the woman. “Now you take my advice; you go straight home. You’re not a man yet, and don’t want to mix yourself up with people fighting about who ought to be king. Just as if it matters to such as us. As I often tell my husband, he’d a deal better attend to getting his living, and not go listening to people argifying whether it’s to be the king on the other side of the water or on this. I say, give me peace and— You feel better, don’t you?”
“Yes, thank you,” said Frank, making an effort to rise; but the moment he tried the ground seemed to heave up beneath him.