“Have I?” said the boy nervously.
“Yes, wonders, herr. Bravo! Bravo!”
“Have I?” said Saxe faintly, as to himself he thought, “Oh, if they only knew!”
“Yes, my boy; but what’s the matter?”
“I—I don’t know,” he panted; “I—I feel as if I had overdone it, and broken something.”
“Eh? What? Where?” cried Dale, anxiously catching him by the arm.
“Here,” said Saxe, striking his chest: “I can’t breathe enough; it comes short, like that.”
The others burst out laughing; and Saxe stared at them angrily: it seemed so unfeeling.
“Sit down, boy. Come, Melchior, lunch or dinner. We’ve got to descend. Why, Saxe lad, where’s your school teaching?”
“My teaching?”