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The Coral Island by R. M. (Robert Michael) Ballantyne
page 13 of 349 (03%)
"Then what are you shamming for, and frightening us in this way?"
said Peterkin, smiling through his tears; for the poor boy had been
really under the impression that I was dying.

I now raised myself on my elbow, and putting my hand to my
forehead, found that it had been cut pretty severely, and that I
had lost a good deal of blood.

"Come, come, Ralph," said Jack, pressing me gently backward, "lie
down, my boy; you're not right yet. Wet your lips with this water,
it's cool and clear as crystal. I got it from a spring close at
hand. There now, don't say a word, hold your tongue," said he,
seeing me about to speak. "I'll tell you all about it, but you
must not utter a syllable till you have rested well."

"Oh! don't stop him from speaking, Jack," said Peterkin, who, now
that his fears for my safety were removed, busied himself in
erecting a shelter of broken branches in order to protect me from
the wind; which, however, was almost unnecessary, for the rock
beside which I had been laid completely broke the force of the
gale. "Let him speak, Jack; it's a comfort to hear that he's
alive, after lying there stiff and white and sulky for a whole
hour, just like an Egyptian mummy. Never saw such a fellow as you
are, Ralph; always up to mischief. You've almost knocked out all
my teeth and more than half choked me, and now you go shamming
dead! It's very wicked of you, indeed it is."

While Peterkin ran on in this style, my faculties became quite
clear again, and I began to understand my position. "What do you
mean by saying I half choked you, Peterkin?" said I.
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