“I seem to have cut myself,” he said.
“Do you think you are much hurt, Jake? Here, wait a minute, Andrew and I'll help you up—the other side, Andrew—take him by the arm.”
To get the lawyer on his feet was a more difficult task than Gibbs had anticipated; but when at last he had accomplished this, with the servant's aid, Benson seemed unable to hold himself in the position in which he had been placed.
“Take me to my room,” he said weakly.
They got him up-stairs and undressed and in bed, and then Gibbs sent Andrews down-stairs for brandy, his own unfailing panacea.
“As soon as he brings that, he'll go for a doctor. How do you feel now, Jake?” said Gibbs.
“I seem more confused than hurt; it was the surprise, the sudden shock,” said Benson.
“Who shall I send for?” asked Gibbs.
“No one, yet. As soon as Andrew comes, take my keys—you'll find them in my pocket—and go to the safe in the library. There's a paper there I want you to bring me. It's in a long yellow envelope, you can't miss it.”
“Never mind your papers, Jake, a doctor's more to the purpose,” said Gibbs, but the injured man moved impatiently.