Bernard, after a moment’s hesitation, climbed into the carriage, and seating himself beside the gentleman, took the reins from his unresisting fingers.
“Are you sick, sir?” he said.
The gentleman opened his eyes and looked at Bernard.
“Yes,” he said. “I came near fainting away.”
“Shan’t I drive for you?”
“Yes, I wish you would. Who are you?”
“My name is Bernard Brooks.”
“All right! I don’t know you, but you seem like a good boy.”
“Where shall I drive you?”
“To the next town.”