"He's improving."
But it needed more than a mere drop of brandy, more than cousinly words
of adjuration, to bring the wounded man back to a state of speech. And
when at last he managed to make a feeble response, it was only to mutter
some incoherent and disjointed sentences about and being struck down from
behind--after which he again relapsed into semi-unconsciousness.
"That's it guv'nor," muttered Spurge, nudging Copplestone. "That's the
ticket! Struck down from behind--that's what happened to him. Unawares,
so to speak, I can reckon of it up--easy. They comes in the
darkness--after I'd left him here. He hears of 'em, as he says,
a-moving about. Then he no doubt Starts moving about--watching 'em, as
far as he can see. Then one of 'em gives him this crack on the
skull--life-preserver if you ask me--and down he goes! And then--they
drag him in here and leaves him. Don't care whether he's a goner or
not--not they! Well, an' what does it prove? That there's been more
than one of 'em, guv'nor. And in my opinion, where they've come from
is--down there!"
He pointed down the glen in the direction of the sea, and the three
young men who were considerably exercised by this sudden turn of events
and the disappearance of the chests, looked after his out-stretched hand
and then at each other.
"Well, we can't stand here doing nothing," said Gilling at last.
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