Poor Bob let himself sink in a heap upon the floor, covered his face with his hands, and burst into a fit of sobbing.
There was another fit of sobbing heard, for grimy-faced Elizabeth rushed forward, plumped down beside the boy, and took his head to her breast, to rock him to and fro.
“Poor boy!” said Rich softly, and she took his hand.
The touch was like magic; for Bob lifted up his dirty tearful face, all smiles.
“It’s all right, Miss; I’m on’y a bit upset. Only let me get into the surgery again, and I knows what to take to put me right.”
“Can you tell us any more, my lad?” said Mark kindly.
“Course I can, sir; not much, though, for I dunno what come over me. I see them two a-lying about, and as something horrid was the matter, and I come over all wet and sick; and then I don’t remember any more till I seemed to wake up with a headache, and couldn’t make out what it all meant; and when I could I lifted up the box-lid, and put out my hand, and felt to try if it was fancy. But there was the doctor lying on his face, and though all was very quiet, I knowed the other dead un must be in the ’sulting-room, and I lay there ’fraid to move, and all of a pruspiration.”
“Did you hear anything else?” said Rich eagerly.
“Yes, Miss; I heared the window broke, and you come, and the perliceman, and I heared all you said; but I dursn’t move, for fear the perlicemen should think I did it—the perlice is such wunners, you know; and last of all, I hears the perliceman begin hunting about, and I got scared again, and tried to hide; and jus’ as I picks up that there white skull, and was trying whether I couldn’t get lower, he opens the lid, and bangs it down.”
“Should you know the men again?” asked Mark eagerly.