“Where is his sister?” Annette shrieked to her father.

“Safe ashore; and one of the women with her.  But Mart Tinman would stop, the fool! to-poor old boy! save his papers and things; and has n’t a head to do it, Martha Cavely tells me.  They’re at him now!  They’ve got him in!  There’s another?  Oh! it’s a girl, who would n’t go and leave him.  They’ll pull to the field here.  Brave lads!—­By jingo, why ain’t Englishmen always in danger!—­eh? if you want to see them shine!”

“It’s little Jane,” said Mrs. Crickledon, who had been joined by her husband, and now that she knew him to be no longer in peril, kept her hand on him to restrain him, just for comfort’s sake.

The boat held under the lee of the house-wreck a minute; then, as if shooting a small rapid, came down on a wave crowned with foam, to hurrahs from the townsmen.

“They’re all right,” said Van Diemen, puffing as at a mist before his eyes.  “They’ll pull westward, with the wind, and land him among us.  I remember when old Mart and I were bathing once, he was younger than me, and could n’t swim much, and I saw him going down.  It’d have been hard to see him washed off before one’s eyes thirty years afterwards.  Here they come.  He’s all right.  He’s in his dressing-gown!”

The crowd made way for Mr. Van Diemen Smith to welcome his friend.  Two of the coastguard jumped out, and handed him to the dry bank, while Herbert, Van Diemen, and Crickledon took him by hand and arm, and hoisted him on to the flint wall, preparatory to his descent into the field.  In this exposed situation the wind, whose pranks are endless when it is once up, seized and blew Martin Tinman’s dressing-gown wide as two violently flapping wings on each side of him, and finally over his head.

Van Diemen turned a pair of stupefied flat eyes on Herbert, who cast a sly look at the ladies.  Tinman had sprung down.  But not before the. world, in one tempestuous glimpse, had caught sight of the Court suit.

Perfect gravity greeted him from the crowd.

“Safe, old Mart! and glad to be able to say it,” said Van Diemen.

“We are so happy,” said Annette.

“House, furniture, property, everything I possess!” ejaculated Tinman, shivering.

“Fiddle, man; you want some hot breakfast in you.  Your sister has gone on—­to Elba.  Come you too, old Man; and where’s that plucky little girl who stood by—­”

“Was there a girl?” said Tinman.

“Yes, and there was a boy wanted to help.”  Van Diemen pointed at Herbert.

Tinman looked, and piteously asked, “Have you examined Marine Parade and Belle Vue?  It depends on the tide!”

“Here is little Jane, sir,” said Mrs. Crickledon.

“Fall in,” Van Diemen said to little Jane.

The girl was bobbing curtseys to Annette, on her introduction by Mrs. Crickledon.

“Martin, you stay at my house; you stay at Elba till you get things comfortable about you, and then you shall have the Crouch for a year, rent free.  Eh, Netty?”