It was instantly picked up by a loafer, who had been leaning against the pile of boxes, and who alone had witnessed the accident; he immediately stooped to help the prostrate man, and finding him pale and still, shouted for assistance, and was quickly joined by a knot of "larrikins," who dragged the unconscious man a little further from the edge of the quay.
It was not long before a small crowd had gathered round, the man who had first observed him making a safe escape in the confusion, Cardo's pocket-book carefully hidden under his tattered coat.
"Better take him up to Simkins the chemist," said a broad-shouldered sailor; and, procuring a stretcher, they carried their unconscious burden to the chemist's shop.
"Why, let me see," said Mr.Simkins; "surely this is the gentleman who called here a few minutes ago.

I told him to go home, and he said he would; but I noticed he turned down towards the quay; poor fellow, bad case, I'm afraid.

He said he thought he was sickening for typhoid fever, and he's about right, I think." "What shall we do with him ?" said the sailor.

"See if you can find a card or letter in his pockets?
Nothing," he added, as together they searched Cardo's pockets, "not a card, nor a letter, nothing but this bunch of keys, and some loose gold and silver." There was no clue to the stranger's identity, except the marking on his clothing.
"Here's C.W.on his handkerchief--Charles Williams, perhaps; well, he ought to be attended to at once, if he ain't dead already," said another.
"Yes, a good thing the hospital is so near," said the chemist.

"You had better leave his money here, and tell Dr.Belton that you have done so.