He was out of his senses, or nearly.
"Let thyself come, lad," cried a workman, "we are all right to catch thee." He made no answer, but hung there glaring and moaning.
"The man will drop noane, till he swouns," said another, watching him keenly.
"Then get you closer to the wall, men," cried Cheetham, in great anxiety.

"He'll come like a stone, when he does come." This injunction was given none too soon; the men had hardly shifted their positions, when Little's hand opened, and he came down like lead, with his hands all abroad, and his body straight; but his knees were slightly bent, and he caught the bands just below the knee, and bounded off them into the air, like a cricket-ball.

But many hands grabbed at him, and the grinder Reynolds caught him by the shoulder, and they rolled on the ground together, very little the worse for that tumble.

"Well done! well done!" cried Cheetham.

"Let him lie, lads, he is best there for a while; and run for a doctor, one of you." "Ay, run for Jack Doubleface," cried several voices at once.
"Now, make a circle, and give him air, men." Then they all stood in a circle, and eyed the blackened and quivering figure with pity and sympathy, while the canopy of white smoke bellied overhead.