"No, I think not," he replied, in a tone which would have been blessed, if less dubious; "the fact of his perceiving my light touch there convinces me, Lady Twentifold--so far as we may trust observations, which we have not verified--that he has taken no internal harm, in the part that was most exposed to it. The brattice came down and protected his head--being clear of the fall myself, I could see the beginning of the accident at that end. The main weight fell upon his back just here--you told me that you wished to have everything stated, as plainly as I could state it, otherwise I would not give you these details--and when we dug him out, the main weight was there still. I rejoice to assure you, that he will be none the worse, after a week or two of good nursing. Any frame of stiff construction would probably have been broken; but our dear young friend, this heroic youth Tommy, has a frame of unusual elasticity, partaking rather of the pterotic character, and his internal organs are adapted to it. But I would not advise, that he should walk as yet, or attempt any movement not absolutely needful. We will send for the cushions of your carriage, if you please, and lay them on these planks, and our Tommy on the top; and then with the strong arms of Barnes, and my own, we will take our young hero to the waggonette. You may thank him for the safety of your dear child. I was too far away, to be of any use. You will candidly acquit me of all blame, I am sure. Your daughter disobeyed me, in entering the place; and even after that, there would have been no disaster, except for the accident to our young friend's wrist. All the rest of the excavation is still firm, as you see." "I will have every bit of it pulled down to-morrow, now that you have got all you want, Professor. And to blame you, would be almost as wicked, as to fail to thank the Almighty." I know that she discharged that latter duty; but I doubt, if she ever acquitted herself so thoroughly, as to the former point. CHAPTER XXVII. PLEASANT, AND UNPLEASANT THINGS. Everybody said, without one exception, unless it were that of some low-minded fellow, that I had performed a most gallant, valiant, and you might fairly term it, heroic deed. But I could not at all take this view of it myself; not only because of that modesty which sometimes suffers misunderstanding, from its terror of becoming conspicuous, but also because I had acted purely from instinct, and without two thoughts. If there had been two thoughts, the first would have been to save Laura--an act of mere selfishness; and the second would have been to save myself--an act of almost equal selfishness. However, casuistry is not in my line, and if people chose to think me a very fine fellow, I should have been guilty of self-assertion, if I had kept on contradicting them.