"Die? No: nonsense, boy. I was only speaking metaphorically. Don't you see?" "Yes, sir," I said. "No, you don't, you young humbug," he retorted sharply. "You don't know what a metaphor is." "Yes, sir, it's a figure of speech in which one idea is used instead of another." "Hallo!" he said; "why, how do you get your living?" "I'm a reading-boy at a printer's, sir." "Oh! Are you? I should have thought you were reading-boy to a professor of language. Well, we mustn't forget our patient. Give me a glass, boy." "Will a teacup do, sir?" "Oh yes, and a teaspoon. That's right," he said; and, emptying a little phial into the cup, he proceeded to give poor Revitts some of the stimulus it contained. "There," he said, "he's coming round, poor fellow; but I daresay he'll be a bit shaky in the head. He mustn't get up; and you must give notice at his station as soon as it's light, or to the first policeman you see." "But you don't think he'll die, sir?" "Die, my man? No. A great stout fellow like that is not likely to die from a crack or two on the head." I drew a long breath of relief, and soon after the doctor left, bidding me not be alarmed if I found his patient slightly delirious. It was no pleasant task, sitting there alone, watching by my poor friend, and many times over I felt so alarmed at his condition that I rose to go and rouse up some of the people of the house; but whenever I reached the door the doctor's reassuring words came back, and, feeling that he must know what was right, I sat by the bedside, holding Revitts' hand till towards morning, when he began to move uneasily and to mutter and throw about his arms, ending by seeming to wake from a troubled sleep. "Where am I?" he said sharply. "Here at home, in bed," I said. "Who's that?" "It is I, Bill, don't you know me?" "Yes, yes, I know you!" he said. "Oh, my head, my head!" "What was it? How was it done?" I said. There was a pause, and then, in a weary way: "I don't know--I can't recollect. Everything's going round. Yes, I know: I heard a little girl call out for help, and I saw a fellow dragging her towards an open door, and I went at him." "Yes, Bill. Well?" "That's all. I don't know anything else. Oh, my head, my head!" "But did he hit you?" I asked. "Yes, I think so, and I went down," he groaned; "and I don't know any-- any more, but I should know that fellow out of a thousand, and--" He began muttering to himself, and as I bent over him I fancied I made out the word "staff," but all else was unintelligible, and the poor fellow sank into a heavy sleep which seemed likely to last. Soon after seven I got the landlady to come and sit with him while I ran to the police-station, and told the inspector on duty about Revitts' state. "There," he exclaimed to another officer, "I told you so. He's too steady a fellow to have gone wrong. All right, my man, I'll send on the surgeon, and we'll see what's to be done. You don't know how it was?"