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"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked.

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"He is dead," cried several voices.

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"No, no, there's life in him!" shouted another. "But he'll be gone before you can get him to hospital."

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"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a gang, and a rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now."

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"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?"

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"Surely. Bring him into the sitting room. There is a comfortable sofa. This way, please!"

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Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings from my post by the window.


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