f said, almost in a whisper:

"I think it's all right. He's hit his head. Feel his head, and see if
it's bleeding."

Emmy withdrew one hand. A finger was faintly smeared with blood. She
shuddered, looking in horror at the colour against her hand; and Alf
nodded sharply at seeing his supposition verified. His eye wandered from
the insensible body, to a chair, to the open cupboard, to the topmost
shelf of the cupboard. Emmy followed his glance point by point, and in
conclusion they looked straight into each other's eyes, with perfect
understanding. Alf's brows arched.

"Get some water--quick!" Emmy cried sharply. She drew her handkerchief
from her breast as Alf returned with a jugful of water; and, having
folded it, she dangled the kerchief in the jug.

"Slap it on!" urged Alf. "He can't feel it, you know."

So instructed, Emmy first of all turned Pa's head to discover the wound,
and saw that her skirt was already slightly stained by the oozing blood.
With her wetted handkerchief she gently wiped the blood from Pa's hair.
It was still quite moist, and more blood flowed at the touch. That fact
made her realise instinctively that the accident, the stages of which
had been indicated by Alf's wandering glances, had happened within a few
minutes of their arrival. When Alf took the jug and threw some of its
contents upon the old man's grey face, splashing her, she made an
impatient gesture of protest.

"No, no!" she cried. "It's all over _me!_" "Been after his beer, he
has," Alf unnecessarily explained. "That's what it is. Got up on the
chair, and fell off it, trying to get at it. Bad boy!"

As she did not answer, from the irritation caused by nervous
apprehensiveness, he soaked his own handkerchief and began to slap it
across Pa's face, until the jug was empty. Alf thoughtfully sprinkled
the last drops from it so that they fell cascading about Pa. He was
turning away to refill the jug, when a notion occurred to him.

"Any brandy in the house?" he asked. "Ought to have thought of it
before. Pubs are all closed now."

"See if there's any ... up there." Emmy pointed vaguely upwards. She was
bent over Pa, gently wiping the trickles of water from his ghastly face,
caressing with her wet handkerchief the closed eyes and the furrowed
brow.

Alf climbed upon the chair from which Pa had fallen, and reached his
hand round to the back of the high shelf, feeling for whatever was
there. With her face upturned, Emmy watched and