As he spoke, he lay down on his chest, reaching over another clear portion of the stream.
“I must drink like a horse,” he cried; and, placing his lips to the surface, he took a long draught, rose, wiped his lips, drew a deep breath, and exclaimed, “Hah! That was good.”
Then he reeled, caught at the air, and would have fallen, but Distin seized him, and lowered him to the ground, where he lay, looking very ghastly, for a few minutes.
“Only a bit giddy,” he said, faintly. “It will soon go off.”
“I’ll run and fetch help,” cried Distin, excitedly.
“Nonsense! What for? I’m getting better. There: that’s it.”
He sat up, and, with Distin’s help, struggled to his feet.
“How stupid of me!” he said, with a faint laugh. “I suppose it was leaning over the water so long. I’m all right now.”
He made a brave effort, and the two lads walked toward the lane, but, before they had gone many yards, Vane reeled again.
This time the vertigo was slighter, and, taking Distin’s arm, he kept his feet.