The Patrol Leader saluted Flemming courteously, and the Sea Scout smartly returned the salute. Then in a curious mixture of French and English and a broken attempt at both, the Scouts and the Sea Scout engaged in a "palaver".
It was rather a one-sided affair. A dozen French Scouts were talking and asking questions simultaneously, while the English Sea Scout hardly knew which remark to reply to.
"I have been to l'Angleterre," declared one of the Scouts. "Ze last summaire I vas at Sout'ampton at ze rally."
"I was there, too," replied Flemming; then using his Gallicized version of his favourite ejaculation, he added, "Je suis blessé."
The effect was startling and electrical. There was a brief pause following Eric's words. A dozen Scouts invaded the Olivette. Grasped by several pairs of hands, the astonished Flemming, too taken aback to offer any resistance, was gently deposited upon the deck. A confused babel greeted his ears, one of the most frequently used words being "blessé". Several of the French Scouts produced a packet of bandages and a first-aid outfit, while there were shouts raised for "le médecin".
"What's the game," thought the bewildered Flemming. "Are they giving a first-aid demonstration and using me as a subject, just to show how they go about it?"
Someone placed a pile of rolled coats under his head. His shoes and stockings were deftly removed. His jersey was peeled off, although it looked at one time as if the French Scouts meditated cutting it away. They felt his heart and his pulse, and tried to examine his tongue.
In the midst of the demonstration, the timely arrival of Mr. Armitage and the rest of the Sea Scouts saved Flemming from further unrequired attention. Quickly the well-meaning and excitable French lads were induced to desist, and Eric was allowed to regain his feet.
"What have you been doing, Flemming?" asked his Scoutmaster. "Have you hurt yourself?"
"No, sir," replied Eric.