"Cornelia, my dear, run to the house, and get
Michael and the wheelbarrow.--Any bones broken, do you think?" he
continued, carefully pursuing his investigations the while.
"No, nothing! can't you let me lie here alone?" was the sulky reply.
But, as the other's hand happened to press lightly in the vicinity of
the chest, Bressant drew a quick, gasping breath, and could not control
a spasm of pain.
"Don't touch there--it's where the shaft struck me," said he, in a voice
that was no more than a whisper, but as sullen as if he had been the
victim of some unpardonable wrong. There was a trace of mortification in
it, too, such as might have been caused by detection in a disgraceful
act.
"Never saw any thing like this in him, before," said the professor to
himself. "Badly injured, too, I'm afraid: collar-bone broken, at any
rate. Ah! there's the wheelbarrow, and Neelie with some cushions. Now,
Michael, take hold of him carefully, and help me lift him in." But
Bressant, as he felt the first touch, opened wide his half-closed eyes,
and looked around savagely.
"Keep your hands off me," whispered he, in a menacing tone; "if I must
go into the house, I'll walk in myself."
"Nonsense! you're crazy! 'walk in?'" cried the professor.
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