Part 11 (2/2)

”That's just how I do feel,” cried the boy--”regularly raw. I want to have a row with old Sammy Hardock. It's all his fault, our getting into such trouble; and first he stands there laughing at us when we were nearly gone, and now he sits there as if it hadn't mattered a bit, and begins to smoke. I never hated anyone that I know of, but I do hate him now. He's a beast.”

”Well, you said that before,” said Gwyn, slowly; and he s.h.i.+vered. ”I say, Jolly, isn't it rum that when you're wet, if you stand in the sun, you feel cold?”

”Then let's go and give it to old Hardock; that'll warm you up. I feel red hot now.”

Gwyn began to rub his chest softly, where the rope had cut into him, and the boys walked together to where Hardock sat with his back to them, smoking.

The man did not hear them coming till they were close to him, when he started round suddenly, and faced them, letting the pipe drop from between his lips.

The resentment bubbling up in both of the boys died out on the instant, as they saw the drawn, ghastly face before them.

”Ah, my lads! Ah, my dear lads!” groaned the man; ”that's about the nighest thing I ever see; but, thank goodness, you're all safe and sound. Would you two mind shaking hands?”

The boys stared at him, then at each other and back.

”Why, Sam!” said Gwyn, huskily.

”Yes; it's me, my lad,” he replied, with a groan, ”what there is left on me. I've been trying a pipe, but it aren't done me no good, not a bit.

I seem to see young Jollivet there going head first over the cliff; and the mortal s.h.i.+ver it did send through me was something as I never felt afore.”

”Why, you laughed at us!” said Joe, with his resentment flas.h.i.+ng up again.

”Laughed at yer? Course I did. What was I to do? If I'd ha' told yer both you was in danger, wouldn't it ha' frightened you so as you'd ha'

been too froze up to help yourselves?”

”No; I don't think so,” cried Joe.

”Don't yer? Well, I'm sure on it. I couldn't do anything but hold on to the rope, and no one could ha' saved you but yourselves.”

”But you shouldn't have laughed,” said Gwyn, gravely.

”What was I to do then, Colonel? It was the only thing likely to spur you up. I thought it would make you both wild like, and think you warn't in such a queer strait, and it did.”

The boys exchanged glances.

”Yes,” continued Hardock, as he shook hands solemnly with both, ”there was n.o.body to help you, my lads, but yourselves, and I made you do that; but talk about giving a man a turn--Oh, dear! oh, dear! And now my pipe's gone right out.”

”Light it again, then, Sam,” said Gwyn, quietly, as he stooped stiffly to pick up the fallen pipe, and hand it to its owner.

”Thank ye, my lad, thank ye; but I don't feel in the humour for no pipes to-day, I'm just as if I've had a very gashly turn.”

”But you might have tied the rope round me better, Sam,” said Gwyn.

”Ay, I might, my lad, but somehow I didn't. Are you hurt much?”

”Only sore, with the rope cutting me.”

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