Leonard was the first to rise.
"Good Lord, Janey," he said weakly.
"Nigel—he's dead."
"Not he!"
They both knelt down, and raised him a little. Blood began to run out of the corner of his mouth.
"You've killed him!" cried Janey.
"No—he's only bitten his tongue. Look"—lifting the corner of his brother's lip—"his teeth are locked like a vice."
"Oh, all this has been too horrible!"
"Run and fetch some water—we'll bring him to in a minute."
She filled a jug at the tap, and together they bathed Nigel's forehead and neck. Len's rage had entirely cooled, and he handled his unconscious brother almost tenderly.