The at the Seashore Part 7 (2/2)
”Keep still! Don't move, Gladys!” warned Bessie, as she saw the other girl's eyes open.
But Gladys either would not or could not obey that good advice. She struggled furiously by way of answer, and for a long minute Bessie was too busy keeping afloat to be able to look for the coming of the help that was so badly needed.
There seemed to be no purpose to the struggles of Gladys, but they were none the less desperate because of that. Her eyes had the wide, fixed stare that, had Bessie known it, is so invariably seen in those who are in mortal fear of drowning. And she clung to Bessie with a strength that no one could have imagined her capable of displaying.
And at last, though she hated to do it, Bessie managed to get her hands free, and, clenching her fists, she drove them repeatedly into the other's face so that Gladys was forced to let go and put her hands before her face to cover herself from the vicious blows.
At once Bessie seized the opportunity. She flung herself away, knowing that even though she did not try to help herself, but being conscious, Gladys would not sink at once, and got behind her, so that she could grasp her by the shoulders and be safe from the deadly clutch of her arms.
Free from the terrible danger that is the risk a.s.sumed by all who rescue drowning persons, that of being dragged down by the victim, Bessie was able to raise her head and look for the Eleanor. And now she gave a wild cry as she saw the sloop bearing down upon her. Eleanor Mercer was in the bow, a coil of rope in her hands, and a moment later she flung it skillfully, so that Bessie caught it. At once Bessie made a noose and slipped the rope over Gladys's shoulders. Then she let go, and, turning on her back, rested while Gladys was dragged toward the sloop.
Bessie herself was almost exhausted by her struggle. She felt that, had her very life depended upon doing it, she could not have swum the few yards that separated her from the sloop. But there was no need for her to do it. Steering with the utmost skill, Dolly soon brought the Eleanor alongside of Bessie as she lay floating in the water, and a moment later she was being helped aboard.
”Lie down and rest,” commanded Eleanor. ”Don't try to talk yet.”
And Bessie was glad enough to obey. She lay down beside Gladys, who seemed to have fainted again, and Eleanor threw a rug over her.
”Now we must get them ash.o.r.e as quickly as we can, Dolly,” said Eleanor. ”Bessie's just tired out, but I don't like the looks of Gladys at all.”
”The boom hit her,” said Bessie, weakly. ”It hit her on the head. That's how she was knocked overboard. She didn't know what she was doing when she struggled so in the water.”
”What a lucky thing you saw what happened!” said Dolly. ”I was so intent on the race that I never looked at all, and I didn't even know you'd gone over until I called to you and you didn't answer.”
”Oh, I knew you'd come back, Dolly. I just wondered, when Gladys was struggling so, if you'd be in time.”
This time Dolly didn't stop at the anchorage of the sloop, but ran her right up on the beach. That meant some trouble in getting her off when they came to that, but it was no time to hesitate because of trifles. Once they were ash.o.r.e, the other girls, who had, of course, seen nothing of the accident that had so nearly had a tragic ending, rushed up to help, and in a few moments Gladys was being carried to the big living tent.
There her wet clothes were taken off, she was rubbed with alcohol, and wrapped in hot blankets. And as Eleanor and Margery Burton stood over her, she opened her eyes, looked at them in astonishment, and wanted to know where she was.
”Oh, thank Heaven!” cried Eleanor. ”She's come to her senses, I do believe! Gladys, do you feel all right?”
”I--I--think so,” said Gladys faintly, putting her hand to her head. ”I've got an awful headache. What happened? I seem to remember being hit on the head--”
”Your boom struck you as it swung over, and knocked you into the water, Gladys,” said Eleanor. ”You couldn't swim, and you don't remember anything after that, do you? It dazed you for a time, so that you didn't know what you were doing. But you're all right now, though I've telephoned for a doctor, and he'd better have a look at you when he comes, just to make sure you're all right.”
”But--how did I get here?”
”Bessie King saw you go overboard and jumped after you. Of course, the girls on your boat were pretty helpless--she was going all around in circles after you left the tiller free, so they couldn't do anything.”
Gladys closed her eyes for a moment.
”I'd like to talk to her later--when I feel better,” she said. ”I think I'll try to go to sleep now, if I may. The pain in my head is dreadful.”
”Yes, that's the best thing you can do,” said Eleanor warmly. ”You'll feel ever so much better, I know, when you wake up. Someone will be here with you all the time, so that if you wake up and want anything, you'll only need to ask for it.”
But Gladys was asleep before Eleanor had finished speaking. Nature was taking charge of the case and prescribing the greatest of all her remedies, sleep.
Eleanor turned away, with relief showing plainly in her eyes.
”I think she'll be all right now,” she said. ”If that blow were going to have any serious effects, I don't believe she'd be in her senses now.”
”I think it's a good thing it happened, in a way,” said Dolly, when they were outside of the tent. ”Did you notice how she spoke about Bessie, Miss Eleanor?”
”Yes. I see what you mean, Dolly. Of course, I'm sorry she had to have such an experience, but maybe you're right, after all. I'm quite sure that her feelings toward Bessie will be changed after this--she'd have to be a dreadful sort of girl if she could keep on cheris.h.i.+ng her dislike and resentment. And I'm sure she's not.”
”h.e.l.lo! Why aren't you in bed, sleeping off that ducking?” asked Dolly suddenly. For Bessie, in dry clothes, and looking as if she had had nothing more exciting than an ordinary plunge into the sea to fill her day, was coming toward them from her own tent.
”Oh, I feel fine!” said Bessie. ”The only trouble with me was that I was scared--just plain scared! If I'd known that everything was going to be all right, I could have turned and swum ash.o.r.e after you started towing Gladys in. Is she all right? I'm more bothered about her than about myself.”
”I think she's going to feel a lot better when she wakes up,” said Eleanor. ”I think I'm enough of a doctor to be able to tell when there's anything seriously wrong. But I'm not taking any chances--I've sent for a doctor.”
”How about the other boat? Did they get in all right?” asked Dolly. ”I forgot all about them, I was so worked up about Bessie and Gladys.”
”They had a tough time, but they managed it,” said Margery Burton. ”Here's Miss Turner now. I suppose she's worried about Gladys.”
Worried she certainly was, but Eleanor was able to rea.s.sure her, and soon the doctor, arriving from Green Cove, p.r.o.nounced Gladys to be in no danger.
”She'll have that headache when she wakes up,” he said; ”but it will be a lot better, and by to-morrow morning it will be gone altogether. Don't give her much to eat; some chicken broth ought to be enough. She's evidently got a good const.i.tution. If she had fractured her skull she wouldn't have been conscious yet, nor for a good many days.”
But the accident had one unforeseen consequence, that was rather amusing than otherwise to Dolly, at first, at least. For, before the doctor was ready to go, the sound of an automobile engine was heard up on the bluff, and a minute later Billy Trenwith came racing down the path.
At the sight of Eleanor he paused, looking a little sheepish.
”I heard that Doctor Black was coming here--I was afraid something might have happened to you,” he stammered.
”Why, whatever made you think that?” said Eleanor, honestly puzzled. Then she turned, surprised again by a burst of hysterical laughter from Dolly, who, staring at Trenwith's red face, was entirely unable to contain her mirth. Under Eleanor's steady gaze she managed to control herself, but then she went off again helplessly as Doctor Black winked at her very deliberately.
Scandalized and rather indignant as the point of the joke began to reach her, Eleanor was dismayed to see that Bessie, the grave, was also having a hard time to keep from laughing outright. So she blushed, which was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, and then made some excuse for a hasty flight.
”Well, you people have so many things happen to you all the time,” said Trenwith, indignantly, ”that I don't see why it wasn't perfectly natural for me to come out to see what was wrong now!”
”Oh, don't apologize to me, Mr. Trenwith!” said Dolly, mischievously. ”And--can you keep a secret?”
He looked at her, not knowing whether he ought to laugh or frown, and Dolly went up to him, put her hands on his shoulders, and raised herself so that she could whisper in his ear.
”She isn't half as angry as she pretends,” she said.
Then Eleanor came back, and Dolly made herself scarce. She had a positive genius for knowing just how far she could go safely in her teasing.
”I had to come out here, anyhow,” said Trenwith, to Eleanor. ”Look here. I got this message from Charlie Jamieson.”
Eleanor took it.
”I don't see why you let Charlie order you around so,” she said, severely. ”Haven't you any business of your own to attend to? He hasn't any right to expect you to waste all your time trying to keep us out of trouble.”
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