"Don't come near me; I'm all right," he cried quickly.
"Take care--your dress--"
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear you speak! Never mind the dress! You are torn
to pieces! You must be frightfully hurt. Oh, isn't it
terrible--horrible! Aunt Fanny! Come here this minute!"
Forgetting the beast and throwing off the paralysis of fear, she pushed
one of the men away and grasped the arm of the injured man. He winced
perceptibly and she felt something warm and sticky on her hands. She
knew it was blood, but it was not in her to shrink at a moment like
this.
"Your arm, too!" she gasped. He smiled, although his face was white with
pain. "How brave you were! You might have been--I'll never forget
it--never! Don't stand there, Aunt Fanny! Quick! Get those cushions for
him. He's hurt."
"Good Lawd!" was all the old woman could say, but she obeyed her
mistress.
"It was easier than it looked, your highness," murmured Baldos. "Luck
was with me. The knife went to his heart. I am merely scratched. His
leap was short, but he caught me above the knees with his claws. Alas,
your highness, these trousers of mine were bad enough before, but now
they are in shreds. What patching I shall have to do! And you may well
imagine we are short of thread and needles and thimbles--"
"Don't jest, for heaven's sake! Don't talk like that. Here! Lie down
upon these cushions and--"
"Never! Desecrate the couch of Graustark's ruler? I, the poor
goat-hunter? I'll use the lion for a pillow and the rock for an
operating table.
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