"Yes," said the doctor, noticing the preparation; "it will be the proper food to give him when he comes to his senses. Put a teaspoonful of brandy in it. A son of yours?"
"No," answered Grantham; "my friend, Mr. Rathbeal, has never seen him before. I found him in this condition in the street."
"But you must have had some previous knowledge of him," said the doctor, looking with curiosity at Grantham.
"Oh, yes. I met him by chance some months since, when he was in want of food, and we struck up an acquaintance. Is he in danger?"
"He may not live through the night." He put up his hand; Billy was coughing, and a little pink foam gathered about his lips, which the doctor wiped away. "Exposure and want have reduced him to this state. He has been suffering a long time, and his strength is completely wasted. Had he been attended to months ago, there would have been a chance for him. Listen!" Billy was coughing again, a faint, wasting cough, painful to hear. "I can do very little. I will send you a bottle of medicine, which may give him temporary relief; and I will come again about midnight, if you wish."
"I shall feel obliged to you. We shall be here all night. Should he have brandy after he has taken the gruel?"
"A few drops now and then will do him no harm. He needs all the strength you can put into him. Endeavor to get from him some information about his relatives, and go for them."
"Would it be best to take him to a hospital?"
"He should not be removed; he will not trouble you long."
"I understand. See, he is coming to. How do you feel now, my little man?"
"_I_ don' know," murmured Billy. "There's somethink 'ere." He moved his hand feebly to his chest. "Is that you, Mr. Gran? Where am I?"
"Now try and eat a little of this," said Grantham, raising the lad gently in his arms.
Billy, with a grateful smile, managed to get two or three spoonfuls down, and then sank back on the bed.
"Do not force him," said the doctor. "Where do you live, Billy?"
"I can't remember nothink--only Mr. Gran. It ain't likely I'll forgit 'im. Thank yer kindly, sir, for wot you've done for me; there ain't many like yer."
He closed his eyes, and appeared to sleep.
"I will see him again at midnight," said the doctor, and stepped softly from the room.