The boy looked round, and gave everybody a confidential nod, including “’Lisbeth,” who was standing at the door, crying, and smiling with satisfaction by turns.
“But you say you saw me come!” cried Mark, while Poynter stood looking on in triumph.
“See you come? Course I did. I know’d you d’reckly, but I don’t think it was you as did it.”
“No, boy, it was not I. But where were you?”
“Wheer was I? Ah! you wouldn’t know, I was afraid o’ the doctor dropping onto me for being there, and I skipped into the bone box.”
“What!” cried Hendon.
“I did, sir, ’strue as goodness. There’s lot’s o’ room, and I could just lift up the lid and peep, and that’s how I see him come.”
“You young rascal?” muttered Hendon; while the doctor sat quietly smiling, as if it were something got up for his special amusement.
“Then the doctor he took you into his room, and you had some bran’-water hot. I smelt it. And when he come and got down one o’ the bottles, and misked you up a dollop o’ physic; and I heared you both a-buzzing away, and talking about wheer you’d been. The doctor kep’ coaxing of you, like, to go to sleep, and somehow that sent me off.”
“What! in that box with those—”