“The brutes!” cried Edgar, with a passionate burst of tears.
“Do you feel hurt anywhere?” said Helen kindly.
“I don’t know,” said the boy faintly, as he rose and took his father’s arm.
“Can I help you, Sir James?” said Helen.
“No, no, my dear Miss Grayson, we are so near home, and we will go in by the back way, so as not to call attention. I can never thank you sufficiently for your kindness, nor this brave boy for his gallantry. Good-bye. Edgar is better now. Good-bye.”
He shook hands warmly with both.
“Shake hands with Miss Grayson, Eddy,” said Sir James, while the butcher’s man sat on the stile and lit his pipe.
Edgar obeyed.
“Now with your gallant preserver,” said Sir James.
Edgar, who looked extremely damp and limp, put out a hand unwillingly, and Dexter just touched it, and let his own fall.