'Porteghee, sir,'

'Dutchman, sir,' 'Prooshan, sir,' and other conflicting testimony, he

now heard a feeble voice asking, both in Italian and in French, for

water. A general remark going round, in reply, of 'Ah, poor fellow,

he says he'll never get over it; and no wonder!' Clennam begged to be

allowed to pass, as he understood the poor creature. He was immediately

handed to the front, to speak to him.

'First, he wants some water,' said he, looking round. (A dozen good

fellows dispersed to get it.) 'Are you badly hurt, my friend?' he asked

the man on the litter, in Italian. 'Yes, sir; yes, yes, yes. It's my leg, it's my leg.But it pleases me to

hear the old music, though I am very bad.'

'You are a traveller! Stay! See, the water! Let me give you some.' They

had rested the litter on a pile of paving stones. It was at a convenient

height from the ground, and by stooping he could lightly raise the head

with one hand and hold the glass to his lips with the other. A little,

muscular, brown man, with black hair and white teeth. A lively face,

apparently. Earrings in his ears. 'That's well. You are a traveller?'

'Surely, sir.' 'A stranger in this city?' 'Surely, surely, altogether. I am arrived this unhappy evening.''From what country?' 'Marseilles.'

'Why, see there! I also! Almost as much a stranger here as you, though

born here, I came from Marseilles a little while ago. Don't be cast

down.' The face looked up at him imploringly, as he rose from wiping it,

and gently replaced the coat that covered the writhing figure. 'I won't

leave you till you shall be well taken care of. Courage! You will be

very much better half an hour hence.' 'Ah! Altro, Altro!' cried the poor little man, in a faintly incredulous

tone; and as they took him up, hung out his right hand to give the

forefinger a back-handed shake in the air.

Arthur Clennam turned; and walking beside the litter, and saying an

encouraging word now and then, accompanied it to the neighbouring

hospital of Saint Bartholomew. None of the crowd but the bearers and

he being admitted, the disabled man was soon laid on a table in a cool,

methodical way, and carefully examined by a surgeon who was as near at

hand, and as ready to appear as Calamity herself. 'He hardly knows an

English word,' said Clennam; 'is he badly hurt?'

'Let us know all about it first,' said the surgeon, continuing his

examination with a businesslike delight in it, 'before we pronounce.'




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