But now the door was flung wide and Hermione was beside him.
"Geoffrey—oh, my love! Have they hurt you?"
"No, dear—thanks to Spike, here!"
"Arthur! Oh, thank God—did he—?"
"Took the bullet meant for me, Hermione. I owe your brother my life!"
She was down on her knees and very soon her skilful fingers had laid bare the ugly wound in the lad's white arm. But now came Mrs. Trapes, looking taller and bonier than ever in a long, very woolly garment, and while she aided Hermione to bandage the wound, Ravenslee brought water and brandy, and very soon Spike sighed and opened his eyes.
"Hello, Hermy!" he said faintly. "Don't worry, I'm all O. K. Bud shot me an' I'm glad, because now I can ask you t' forgive me. Y' see, he'd have got old Geoff sure if it hadn't been for me, so you—you will forgive me, won't you?"
For answer Hermione bent and kissed his pallid cheek.
"I'll go and 'phone for the doctor," said Ravenslee.
"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, "I done ten minutes ago, Mr. Geoffrey. Doctor'll be right along."