“See the places?” said Sir John hoarsely.
“No,” replied the doctor, shifting his position and raising the arm a little. “The fangs are like needle-points, and make so small a wound. Can’t see anything. Whereabouts was it, Jack?”
“Just there,” said the lad, speaking more decisively; and he laid his left finger on his arm. “Two sharp blows.”
“And a keen pricking sensation each time?” said the doctor, looking curiously at his patient.
“No; I did not feel anything but the blows.”
“Here’s the silver bottle, sir,” panted Ned.
“Hold it,” said the doctor. Then to Jack, “Did the snake strike at you anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Pray, pray give him something,” cried Sir John impatiently; “the poison runs through the veins so quickly.”
“Yes,” said the doctor quietly, as he wrinkled up his forehead, and, dropping the boy’s arm, he caught the jacket from where it lay.