"We would try and make ourselves useful? Bless my soul! my lady, we must try and get him home. Here, one of you," he said, turning to the males, who stood aloof looking at one another, and doing nothing, in the manner customary to them on such occasions--"run up to the cottage where the carriages are left--" Three or four immediately started off, without an idea of what they were about. "Stop!" shouted the doctor, "what are you going for? Ask for a door, mind you; take one off the hinges, by Gad! if you can't get it any other way; and steal a mattress and some pillows! Lay them inside the largest of the pony carriages, and bring it down here as quick as you can. Bless my soul! and don't walk as if your legs did not belong to you!" whereupon all, with the exception of the Reverend Jabez Heavieman and the Indian warrior, hied them off on the errand, although one or two could have easily performed the service. The ladies, however, still grouped themselves in picturesque attitudes round the wounded man, and gazed on him as if he were a rare geological specimen, to be inspected scientifically. "Ah! he moves," said one; "I think he raised his arm," put in Aliquis; "He breathes! he breathes!" exclaimed Lady Inskip, with tragic joy, such as the "heavy old lady" of the piece admirably puts on when she throws her arms round the villain's neck, and putting her chin on his left shoulder, gives vent to the agonised words--"My chee-ild! my chee-ild!" The doctor, however, was too full of common sense to make any allowance for heroics. "Move aside, can't ye?" he shouted out stentorially, "move aside, can't ye? and let the poor fellow have some air. It's enough to stifle him, all of you sticking around like this, doing nothing, and preventing a breath of wind from coming past your krinlins! The poor chap wants air; and he must have it!" And the doctor, rising up, and stretching out his hands, like street acrobats when they wish to clear a space for their performance amidst the encircling crowd, the ladies retreated, headed by the campaigner, who held her nose in the air, as if the whole thing was "much beneath her," leaving the doctor and his patient, and Miss Lizzie, for awhile to themselves. Only the young imp remained behind to gaze with eyes of curiosity on his handiwork, until the doctor sent him to the right-about, by asking him the pertinent question, "What the doose are you stopping for? By Gad! don't you think you've done enough for one day?" when he, too, drew on one side, and left the trio alone. After a few moments' pause, by dint of having repeated handfuls of water dashed into his face, Tom again revived and opened his eyes.