‘It will be nothing, it will be nothing,’ he heard some one say; and then, ‘A wonderful escape,’ ‘It might have killed him,’ in different tones. It seemed to John at first to be but another scene in that bewildering phantasmagoria through which he had been walking. When he opened his eyes he found that he was in an apothecary’s shop, which was crowded with people, faces everywhere filling up the window outside, piled one upon another. Close to him stood the man in the tall and very shiny hat. John caught in it the reflection of the great blue and red bottles in the window, and burst into a feeble laugh. ‘Gently, gently, you’re all right: but there’s nothing to laugh about,’ some one said. ‘Where am I?’ said John, still fascinated by the reflection. ‘Me dear young gentleman, ye have done a heroic action. Ye’ve behaved like a hero. Ye’ve saved me child,’ said the man in the hat. ‘Now stand back. Let him have plenty of air. Try if you can stand,’ said another voice. John stood up, but felt faint and giddy. It seemed ridiculous in a few minutes to change from the robust village youth who feared nothing to a creature whose head seemed to swim independent of him, and who could not steady himself. He caught at the arm of the tall man to support himself. ‘That’s right, that’s right, me noble boy. I’ll take him home with me. The child is unhurt, me young hero. She’s waiting out o’ doors with her mother, who’s longing to embrace ye and bless ye. Come, it’s but a step to me humble door.’ John was not quite clear about this address, but he was glad of the tall man’s arm, on which he could lean, and allowed himself to be led away in a dazed condition through the crowd, followed by the woman and the child, who was still crying with fright and excitement. The mother, happily, neither embraced nor blessed him, but he was so dazed that he scarcely knew what happened, except that she looked at him anxiously, with troubled eyes. He was glad of the support of the man, who guided him very kindly for a little way through the crowded street, then suddenly turned down a quiet one. Here the waft of a purer, colder air upon John’s face brought him to himself, and he would have drawn his arm from that of his guide. ‘I can go now,’ he said, ‘thank you. I’m myself, now----’ ‘What, let you go like this--the saviour of me child’s life--when we’re close to our humble door? Never!’ said his new friend. ‘Maria, go first and light a candle--you’ve got the key----’