"Well, Bell!" said the doctor, resisting.
But Bell continued rubbing.
"Come, Bell," began the doctor again, his mouth, nose, and eyes full of snow, "are you mad? What's the matter?"
"If you have a nose left," answered Bell, "you ought to be grateful to me."
"A nose!" answered the doctor, quickly, clapping his hand to his face.
"Yes, Doctor, you were frost-bitten; your nose was white when I looked at you, and if I had not done as I did, you would have lost that ornament which is in the way on a journey, but agreeable to one's existence."
In fact, the doctor's nose was almost frozen; the circulation of the blood was restored in time, and, thanks to Bell, all danger was gone.
"Thanks, Bell!" said the doctor; "I'll be even with you yet."
"I hope so, Doctor," the carpenter answered; "and may Heaven protect us from worse misfortunes!"
"Alas, Bell," continued the doctor, "you mean Simpson! The poor fellow is suffering terribly."