his cursedly cool way you say you have
none to offer. You are not ill; you have not, as we feared, been
attacked for your money, for there it lies on the table. There is
nothing wrong, then, with you, and--good God! what's this?"

He started away in horror, for the hand he had in his anger shifted to
Stratton's shoulder was wet, and, as he held it out, Miss Jerrold
uttered a faint cry, for it was red with blood; and, released from the
fierce grasp which had held him up, Stratton swayed forward, reeled, and
fell with a crash on to the carpet.

"He's hurt. Wounded," cried Guest, dropping on one knee by his friend's
side, but only to start up and dash into the adjoining room, to come
back directly with basin, sponge, and water.

"Damn!" raged the admiral, "what a brutal temper I have. Poor lad! poor
lad! Fetch a doctor, Guest. No. That's right, sponge his temples,
'Becca. Good girl. Don't fetch a doctor yet, Guest. I am a bit of a
quack. Let me see."

He went behind the prostrate man, who lay perfectly insensible, and kept
on talking hurriedly as he took out a penknife and used it freely to get
at the injury in the shoulder.

"Why didn't he speak? You were right, then, Guest. Some scoundrel has
been here. Curse him! we'll have him hung. To be sure--a bullet gone
right through here--no; regularly ploughed his flesh. Thank Heaven! not
a dangerous wound. I can bandage it. But too much for a bridegroom.
Poor lad! poor lad!"

He tore up his own handkerchief and made a pad of his sister's, but
these were not enough. "Look here, Rebecca," he said; "you'd better go
and leave us."

"Nonsense!" said the lady sternly. "Go on with your work, and then a
doctor must be fetched."

"Very well, then, if you will stay. There, don't try to revive him yet.
Let's finish. Guest, my lad, take that knife and slit one of the
sheets in the next room; then tear off a bandage four inches wide and as
long as you can. Let's stop the bleeding, and he won't hurt."

All was done as he ordered, and the bandage roughly fixed, Stratton
perfectly insensible the while.

"'Becca, my dear--Guest, my lad," said the admiral huskily. "Never felt
so sorry in my life." Then, taking Stratton's hand between both his
own, he said, in a low voice, "I beg your pardon, my lad, humbly."

"I don't like this long insensibility, Mark," said Miss Jerrold.

"No; it's too long. Has he any rum or brandy in the place?"

"Yes," said Guest ea