In a little we had the senseless man stretched on a sofa in the
library. And there, with ice on his wound and brandy in his
throat, his eyes opened and his lips moved.
Lord Amersteth bent down to catch the words.
"Yes, yes," said he; "we've got one of them safe and sound. The
brute you collared upstairs." Lord Amersteth bent lower. "By
Jove! Lowered the jewel-case out of the window, did he? And
they've got clean away with it! Well, well! I only hope we'll
be able to pull this good fellow through. He's off again."
An hour passed: the sun was rising.
It found a dozen young fellows on the settees in the
billiard-room, drinking whiskey and soda-water in their overcoats
and pyjamas, and still talking excitedly in one breath. A
time-table was being passed from hand to hand: the doctor was
still in the library. At last the door opened, and Lord
Amersteth put in his head.
"It isn't hopeless," said he, "but it's bad enough. There'll be
no cricket to-day."
Another hour, and most of us were on our way to catch the early
train; between us we filled a compartment almost to suffocation.
And still we talked all together of the night's event; and still
I was a little hero in my way, for having kept my hold of the one
ruffian who had been taken; and my gratification was subtle and
intense.
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