drawn up.  By and by Gerald was wading, and with difficulty preventing himself from being washed off the rocks.  He paused, saw her, and waved encouragement.  Then he plunged along, not off his feet, and reached the island where the boys were holding out their arms to him.  There ensued a few moments of apparently hot debate, and she saw, to her horror and amazement, that he was thrusting back one boy, who struggled and almost fell off the rock in his passion, as Gerald lifted down the little fisher-boy.  Of course she could not hear the words, “Come, boy.  No, Adrian.  Noblesse oblige.  I will come back, never fear.  I can take but one, don’t I tell you.  I will come back.”

Those were Gerald’s words, while Adrian threw himself on the rock, sobbing and screaming, while Fergus sat still, hugging his bag.  Anna could have screamed with her brother, for the boat seemed to have overshot the mark, and to be going quite aloof, when all depended upon a few minutes.  She could hardly hear the words of the Preventive woman, who had found a second glass:  “Never you fear, miss, the boat will be up in time.”

She could not speak.  Her heart was in wild rebellion as she thought of the comparative value of her widowed mother’s only son with that of the fisher-boy, or even of Fergus, one of so large a family.  She could not or would not look to see what Gerald was doing with the wretched little coast boy; but she heard her companion say that the gentleman had put the boy down to scramble among the rocks, and he himself was going back to the pair on the rock, quite swimming now.

She durst look again, and saw that he had scrambled up to the boys’ perch, and had lifted Adrian up, but there was white spray dashing round now.  She could not see the boat.

“They have to keep to the other side,” explained the woman.  “God keep them!  It will be a near shave.  The gentleman is taking off his coat!”

Again there was a leap of foam-—over! over!  Then all was blotted out, but the woman exclaimed—-

“There they are!”

“Oh! where?”

“One swimming!  He is floating the other.”

Anna could see no longer.  She dashed aside the telescope, then begged to be told, then looked again.  No prayer would come but “Save him! save him!”

There was a call quite close.

“Mr. Norris, sir, put off your boat!  Master Fergus-—Oh! is he off?” and, drenched and breathless, Davy sank down on the ground at their feet, quite spent, unable at first to get out a word after those panting ones; but in a minute he spoke in answer to the agonized “Which?  Who?”

“Master Fergus is swimming.  The young sir couldn’t.”

Anna recollected how her mother’s fears and entreaties had prevented Mr. Harewood from teaching Adrian to swim.

“Gent is floating him,” added the boy.  “He took me first, because I could get over the rocks and get help soonest.  He is a real gentleman, he is.”