He hurriedly examined Lisle and then looked up.
“It’s not a case of drowning; and his limbs look sound. Must have got the breath knocked out of him against a boulder.” He pointed to a broad red gash on Lisle’s forehead as Nasmyth eased him down again. “That explains his unconsciousness.”
“Where’s Gladwyne?” Nasmyth asked.
Batley made an expressive gesture.
“Beyond our help, anyway; somewhere down-river.” He appeared to brace himself with an effort. “I’m pretty nearly finished, but there’s a good deal to be done. We’ll strip Lisle, and you and Crestwick can share your dry things with him. Then one of you had better gather cedar twigs for him to lie on.”
CHAPTER XXXI
LISLE GOES TO ENGLAND
Lisle had with some difficulty been dressed in dry clothes, and he lay with his eyes shut on a couch of cedar sprays beside a fire, when Batley rose and turned to Nasmyth.