Chapter 10. A Sad Affair

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_ CHAPTER TEN. A SAD AFFAIR

"Oh do come in, Fred!" said Harry, blowing and splashing about in the water like a small whale, on the day following the fishing excursion. The lads were down by the side of the river, in a spot called Withy Nook--a green snug place entirely sheltered from all observation--a spot with the emerald grass sloping down to where the river ran by, sparkling and dancing in the golden sunlight, flashing back the bright rays from the tiny wavelets, and making the golden waterlilies rise and fall as they rode upon the bright surface. The water was so limpid that the sand and clean washed pebbles could be easily seen at the bottom, except when the water was put in a state of turmoil by the antics of the two boys who were bathing.

"Oh do come in, Fred!" echoed Philip; "it isn't a bit cold, and not deep; and you ought to learn to float and swim."

"Oh come on," said Harry again.

Fred felt that he would like to go in and have a dip, for the water looked so cool and bright and clear; but there was a certain amount of timidity to be got over; he had never been in anything but a bath in his life, and plunging at once into a river was a novel feat that he could hardly summon courage to attempt. But at last the persuasions of his cousins had the desired effect, and Fred quickly undressed, and then stood upon the bank, afraid to take his first dip; but again were the persuasions of his cousins brought into play, and the London boy took his first step into the water, and then made a half slip, so that he came down sideways and went right under the surface, but regained his feet, with the water singing and rumbling in his ears, his eyes close shut, and the drops streaming down him as fast as they could run.

"Oh--ah--ah," said Fred, gasping.

"Haw--haw--haw!" burst from Harry, as he laughed heartily at his cousin.

"Don't grin like that, Hal," said Philip, helping Fred out of his difficulty, and steadying him as he stood breast high in the water, rubbing his eyes, and trying to get rid of the feeling of bewilderment that had come over him upon his sudden immersion.

"Oh, isn't it queer?" said Fred, as soon as he had finished gasping, and spitting out the water he had in his mouth.

"Not a bit of it," said Harry, "only you were in such a hurry to get under the water. Now, then, try and swim: see me go dog's paddle," and then the young dog set to paddling away as though he had lived in the water half his lifetime. "Hold his chin up, Phil, and he'll soon do it."

But Fred did not want to have his chin held up, nor yet to be touched; he preferred to wade gently about in the clear water by himself, while his cousins swam backwards and forwards across the river--here not twenty yards broad.

"Make haste and learn to swim, Fred, it's so easy," said Harry, "and such capital fun. Look here; see me dive." And then, turning heels upwards in the water, he went down out of sight, to Fred's great horror, but came up again directly, and then floated upon his back, swam sideways, and did other feats that seemed to Fred little short of wonders--so easily and deftly were they performed.

"Now then, Phil," said Harry, "I'll race you up to the pollard, and back to Fred. Come on!"

Philip did "come on," and the boys swam up stream towards the willow pollard which overhung the river about fifty yards off. Away they went, working away manfully, for it was hard work against the running water. Sometimes Philip got a little ahead, and sometimes it was Harry; but Philip was first when they reached the pollard-tree, and he kept ahead, too, as they came easily back down stream towards the spot from whence they started.

"Hallo!" puffed out Harry, all at once, "where's Fred?"

"Got out," gasped Philip, for he was getting out of breath with his exertions.

"No, he hasn't; I can't see him," said Harry, getting excited. "He's got out of his depth and gone down stream! Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall we do?"

Just then Philip caught sight of something white slowly washing over the shallows lower down the stream, and he called his brother's attention to it. "It's Fred," said Harry, swimming as hard as he could. "Come on." Saying which he dashed out of the water and ran along the bank till he came opposite the place, where sure enough poor Fred was slowly drifting over the shallow pebbly-bottomed stream; and then both lads dashed in and, by using great efforts, dragged their cousin inshore, and got him upon the bank.

"Put your trousers and jacket on, and run for Papa, Harry," cried Philip, as he gazed upon the inanimate countenance of Fred, and tried in vain to open the eyes which kept so obstinately closed.

Harry was not long in obeying his brother's hint, and in less than ten minutes Mr Inglis, with a couple of the farm-labourers carrying blankets, arrived upon the spot. Very little was said, but in a few minutes more poor Fred was carried off to the Grange; while his cousins stopped behind, shivering with cold and fear, to finish dressing themselves.

Upon reaching home they found the house in the greatest confusion; one servant was watching at the front door so as to give the earliest notice of the doctor's coming, for a man had been sent for him at full gallop; another was running backwards and forwards from the kitchen carrying hot blankets; while Mr and Mrs Inglis were doing all that lay in their power to restore animation; but all seemed as yet in vain, and when Harry and Philip crept on tiptoe into the bedroom, they trembled at the ghastly look their cousin wore.

Poor Mrs Inglis seemed quite in despair, and would have ceased her efforts but for the Squire, who warned her to persevere, saying that people had been revived even after ill success for two hours or more; and, apparently hopeless as the case seemed, he kept on himself moving the body on to one side and back again with a regular motion, so as to endeavour to promote artificial respiration. On the table was a number of "The Life Boat," which contained full instructions for recovering the apparently drowned; and to this Mr Inglis kept making references, and giving his instructions accordingly.

At length there was the distant sound of a horse's feet coming at a gallop along the road; they soon came along the gravel drive, were heard to stop, and then in came quickly, but with a step soft as that of a cat, that awe-inspiring personage--the Doctor. He saw at a glance what had been done, and nodded his satisfaction, then examined the pupil of poor Fred's eye, felt his pulse, and listened at his chest; and afterwards, drawing off his coat and kneeling by the bedside, continued the efforts that Mr Inglis had so well commenced.

An hour--a long, long hour--one with leaden seconds--slipped by during which time not an effort was relaxed; though the faces of Mr and Mrs Inglis betrayed the despair that had crept over them, while Harry and Philip sobbed so that they had to be sent out of the room; when they stifled the sobs as well as they could, and crept back to the door, where they sat listening outside.

All this time the Doctor's face had been as solid as a block of marble, not a trace of any emotion--hopeful or despairing--appeared; he kept on giving order after order, and worked till the perspiration stood in great drops upon his brow; and still no sign of life. The tears coursed silently down Mrs Inglis's face, and it was only by a great effort that she could keep from sobbing. Glad would she have been to have left the room, but a sense of duty forbade her, and she stayed, lending all the assistance that lay in her power.

All at once, the Doctor brightened up, and turning to the Squire said, "Now, I'll have a glass of sherry and a biscuit."

Mr Inglis saw nothing to cause the cheerful way in which the Doctor spoke, but felt that he must have a good reason for hope, or he would not have spoken so lightly. So, ringing the bell for the refreshment, he leaned over the poor boy, and, as he did so, a faint, a very faint, sigh escaped from his chest, and then there was a slight twitching of his eyelids.

"There," said the Doctor, wiping his forehead, and turning upon Mr and Mrs Inglis with a delighted aspect,--"there, I don't believe another medical man in the county would have persevered to that extent, and saved the boy's life; but, there, all the credit belongs to Mr Inglis for commencing the work so well."

"No; it's not due to me. If it had not been for that book on the table," said he, pointing to the little pamphlet, "I should not have known how to proceed."

"Ah, well," said the Doctor, "then we will say it was all due to the Life Boat Institution."

But all this while no efforts were relaxed, for, though symptoms of revival were plainly to be seen, they were like the flickerings of the wick of a lamp, liable at a moment to become extinct; but the endeavours of those present supplied the needful oil, and by slow degrees the cadaverous hue disappeared from Fred's face; his breathing became firmer and more regular; and at last his eyes opened, staring vacantly at the ceiling, and those bending over him; but, after another lapse of time, a light seemed to be added to the vacant look, and, to the intense delight of all, a smile came over his pale face as he recognised Mr and Mrs Inglis. It was thought better that the lads should not come in at present, so the joyful new was conveyed to them outside the door in a whisper; and then off and away went Harry, followed by his brother, to perform a kind of triumphal war-dance down in the dining-room, where he could make a little noise without being overheard in the sick chamber.

Not very long afterwards, the Doctor took his departure, promising to return in the course of an hour or two; and then Mr and Mrs Inglis came into the room where the boys were, and, announcing; that Fred was in a calm sleep, with one of the maids watching by his side, they asked how the poor fellow came to be so nearly drowned.

This was a question that neither Harry nor Philip could answer; but they told what they knew, and could only suppose that he had walked out of his depth, when the swiftness of the current, and his own timidity, had prevented him from regaining his footing. So that the full explanation had to remain until Fred was in a condition to give it himself.

Mr Inglis talked long and seriously to the boys; but he felt that he could not blame them much, as bathing was an habitual thing with them in the summer-time, and moreover a most healthy habit: joined to which, for such young lads, both Harry and Philip were powerful swimmers. But the act for which Mr Inglis blamed them was not for inducing their cousin to bathe, but leaving him, ignorant as he was of the power of the current, by himself.

"I think, Mamma," said the Squire, at last, "we had better send poor Fred home again. Here in a space of time of only two or three days has he been lost in the wood; and, but for the blessing of God, he would have this day been drowned."

"Oh! pray--pray don't send him away, Papa," pleaded both the lads at once. "We will be so careful for the future. And--and," said Harry, breaking down as he spoke; "and--and--indeed, Papa, I wish it had been me to-day sooner than poor Fred, for we do feel that we ought to take care of him when he's a visitor; don't we, Philip? But I am such an unlucky beggar; I'm always doing something wrong when I want to do right, and it does make me so miserable, and so it did when I pitched into Fred the first afternoon he was here, and I couldn't help it."

"What's that?" said Mr Inglis; "pitched into Fred? What, have you two been fighting?"

Harry was in too great trouble to speak, so Philip narrated the little skirmish, concluding with the loss of the poor ferret.

Mr Inglis did not say any more upon the subject; but a smile passed between him and Mrs Inglis, and then, shaking hands with his boys, they all went on tiptoe up the stairs to have a look at Fred--Mr Inglis, in spite of the events of the past few days, evidently of the opinion that his boys were not so much worse than boys in general.

Fred was fast asleep, breathing regularly; and the maid said he had not moved; so he was left to his rest, strict injunctions being given that Mrs Inglis should be called directly the invalid woke, or showed symptoms of so doing. _

Read next: Chapter 11. Bumpitty Bump.--The Wopses

Read previous: Chapter 9. Which Is Rather Fishy

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