And so on, the young nobleman gathering the facts as best he might.
'Is Larcom there?'
'In the gallery, mi lor.'
'Ask him to come in.'
So Monsieur Larcom entered, and bowed ominously.
'You've seen him, Larcom. Is he very much hurt?'
'He appears, my lord, to me, I regret to say, almost a-dying like.'
'Very weak? Does he speak to you?'
'Not a word, my lord. Since he got a little water he's quite quiet.'
'Poor fellow. Where have you put him?'