He rose from his crouched attitude and straightened himself as well as he could for the gnawing pains of hunger. Then he took the mug from the cupboard and carried it to the table. He paused, looking round. The bed was unmade, its unwholesome grayish linen crumpled and tossed. Since he was to lie there to sleep his last sleep, it might as well be smooth. He made it hurriedly, for the wolf that gnawed him was growing clamorous, and came back to the table, where stood the bottles of oblivion. Pouring the brown syrup into the mug, he raised it to his lips.
"A health to Denzil Vanston, of Normansgrave!" he cried aloud; and then, just as the rim of the mug touched his mouth, a shadow fell before his eyes, some dark thing passed swiftly across the window, there was a heavy thud, and a muffled shriek.
The suicide started as if he had been shot. He trembled in every limb. What, in Heaven's name, could it be? Something, someone, was hanging doubled over the sooty iron railing outside his open window.
He put down the cup. He staggered forward. A human body was hanging across the rail. It writhed; in one instant more it would have fallen, and it must fall upon the railway lines below.
That human instinct which comes into action before thought sent him flying to the rescue. He seized the limp, twisting body, and drew it with difficulty, for he was very weak, back over the rail till the feet rested upon the small iron balcony beside him.
It was a girl—a girl about sixteen, with a torrent of bright brown hair. She was very thin; her face seemed to him of a bluish tinge. The moment he touched her she began to cry out. When she was on her feet she began to struggle.
"Let me go! Let me go! Don't touch me, I must kill myself! How dare you hold me! Let me go, I say!"
Stupefaction held Felix mute for a minute or two. To be consistent, he should have helped her over the verge. The bare thought of so doing made his head swim. With no words, but still obeying imperious instinct, he pulled her, struggling feebly against him, into his desolate apartment. He dragged her to the bed, so recently prepared for the accommodation of another guest, and having pushed her upon it, ran to the window and fastened it, with an overmastering dread lest she should make a dash for her freedom, and he not have the strength to stop her.
Seated on the edge of the bed, she doubled herself together and moaned. Her rescuer, sinking dizzily upon the one chair, stared in dumb contemplation. The girl was evidently in terrible pain. Probably she had broken all her ribs. Ought he to go and fetch a hospital ambulance? Dare he leave her alone within reach of that window? Whence had she fallen, and why did she want to kill herself? In spite of hunger, he almost thought he must postpone his own exit until he knew what prompted this child to attempt hers.
After two or three bewildered minutes he went up to her, sat down beside her, and said weakly, "There, there! Tell me where you have hurt yourself."