But Mr. Fogo, as he stood neck-high in
water, was far beyond drawing any such comparison; and Peter, instead
of adjuring Miss Limpenny to fear no more the heat o' the sun,
accinged himself to the practical difficulty.
"Did 'ee iver hear tell o' what's best to be done when a leddy's took
like this?" he asked his brother.
"No," answered Paul; "Tamsin was niver took this way. But that there
little book us used to study when her had the whoopin'-cough an'
measles wud likely tell all about et; I wish 'twas here. Wait a bit.
I remembers the 'Instructions for Discoverin' th' Appariently
Drownded.' Do 'ee reckon Miss Limpenny here es 'appariently
drownded'?"
"Why, no."
"I don't think so nuther. Ef she was," added Paul regretfully,
"you'd have to be extry partic'lar not to roll her body 'pon casks.
That was a great p'int."
"'Tes a long step round to fetch that book," sighed Peter.
"An' terrable long words i' th' index when you've got et. Stop, now:
es et faintin', do 'ee think?"
"Well," answered Paul thoughtfully, "et _mou't_ be faintin'."
"'Cos, ef so, the best way es to hold the sufferer upsi-down an' dash
cold water over the face."
"That wud be takin' too much of a liberty, wudn' et, Paul?"
But at this point the blood came trickling back into Miss Limpenny's
cheeks; the eyelids fluttered, opened; she gasped a little, looked
up, and--
"Is he gone?" she asked in a weak whisper.
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