body
with a wet towel; but the boy lay motionless, his face horribly red
against the white pillow, his heavy breathing growing more laboured and
louder. And despite the perfume of the eau de Cologne which had
drenched pillow and pyjamas, the smell of whisky spread terror to the
crowd. If Rutford came in, he would swoop on the truth.

"We'll souse the brandy all over him," said the Caterpillar; "and then
no one can guess."

"How about burnt feathers?" suggested Lovell. He had seen a fainting
housemaid treated with this family restorative.

Mrs. Puttick appeared with the brandy, which Lovell administered
externally. Still, Scaife remained unconscious. Then a pillow was
ripped open, and enough feathers burned to restore--as the Caterpillar
put it afterwards--a ruined cathedral. The stench filled the passage
and brought to No. 15 a chattering crowd of Lower Boys. And then the
conviction seized everybody that Scaife was going to die.

"Make way, make way, please!"

It was Rutford, who, followed by Lawrence, strode down the passage into
No. 15, and up to the bed.

"If you please, sir," said Lovell, "Scaife has had a fit."

"It looks like a fit," said Rutford, gravely. "I have telephoned for
the doctor. You've tried," he sniffed the air, "all the wrong
remedies, of course. Feathers--phaugh!--perfume--brandy! The boy must
be propped up and the blood drawn from his head by applying hot water
to his feet."

The Fifth exchanged glances. Why had this not occurred to them? What
a fool Mrs. Puttick was!

"A rush of blood to the head!" Rutford like to hold forth, and he had
been told that he was a capital after-dinner speaker. He had just
risen from an excellent dinner; he was not much alarmed; and his
audience listened with flattering attention. Scaife was lifted into a
chair; ice was applied to his head; his feet were thrust into a "tosh"
filled with steaming water.

"Note the effect," said Rutford. Already a slight change might be
perceived; the breathing became easier, the face less red. Rutford
continued in his best manner: "Mark the _vis medicatrix naturae_.
Nature, assisted by hot water, gently accomplishes her task. Very
simple, and not one of you had the wit to think of a remedy close at
hand, and so easy to administer. The breathing is becoming normal. In
a few minutes I predict that we shall have the satisfaction of seeing
the poor dear fellow open his eyes, and he will tell us that he is