Then he went all over the body carefully, kneading it, rubbing it, and gently patting it.

In such intelligent efforts to restore suspended circulation, he seemed perfectly at home, and after a few minutes his patience was rewarded by seeing the Captain's pallid face gradually recover its natural color, and by feeling his heart gradually beat with a firm pulsation.
At last M'Nicholl opened his eyes, stared at Ardan for an instant, pressed his hand, looked around searchingly and anxiously, and at last whispered in a faint voice: "How's Barbican ?" "Barbican is all right, Captain," answered Ardan quietly, but still speaking French.

"I'll attend to him in a jiffy.

He had to wait for his turn.

I began with you because you were the top man.