“Here, quick! Tell me,” cried Dick, whose turn it was to be staggered now, “you—you—they—they did all this?”
“To be sure they did; and you’re as dead as a door-nail, sir. I see it all myself. Oh, my lad! how could you—how could you go and drownd yourself like that?”
“I—go to drown myself! Nonsense!” cried Dick. Then, as the truth flashed upon him: “Why, Jerry, it was that poor boy with the sheep—the boy I tried to save.”
“No; it was you, sir—I followed you, and got there just too late.”
“You did!”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“But you don’t understand, Jerry.”
“No. I don’t; and that’s the worst of it, sir,” cried Jerry, piteously. “You was buried, for I followed yer; so how can you be here now a-talking to me?”
“But don’t you see?”
“Yes, I do now. You got to know all about it, and you’re an impostor; that’s what you are!”