A lot of people came hurrying up—sailors and other men I hadn't seen to be near, but yet they must have been. The children were made to move away to a distance as fast as possible; but I couldn't stop to think of them, for I was wild to know about Jervis and Bessie. They say I spoke pretty quiet, only I didn't feel myself to be quiet. The next thing was, I found Miles close by me, and he was saying, "They'll get 'em out, mother, and I am going to help."
I couldn't bear Miles to go near, for I thought there'd surely be another fall of the cliff; and I tried to hold him back, but it was no use. A lot of men were hard at work, and Master Bertram was with them; and they had need of courage, for nobody could say if any moment they mightn't be buried too. But still they kept on, as brave as could be, clearing away the rock and the rubbish, hoping that it mightn't be too late.
Somebody tried to make me go farther off, and I wouldn't be made, not even when a policeman came and ordered me back. I just gazed in his face, and stayed where I was. "Want me to go, when my husband and child are there!" said I. And he looked pitying, and said no more: and maybe I was wrong, but how could I help it?
The time seemed so slow, I didn't know how to bear myself. Sometimes everything turned black, and I couldn't have told where I was, nor what had come to me.
It must have been just after one of those turns that I saw a man carrying something down the beach—carrying a child, and I knew it must be my little Bessie, though I could not properly see. I cried out for Bessie, but somebody stepped between; and I tried to meet him, but I could hardly walk, and he went off and away too quick; and I asked no questions, for my husband wasn't out yet, and I had to wait for him. The blackness came again, and the next minute somebody had hold of my hand, and I jumped up, and cried out, "Is it Jervis?" And then I knew from the feel of the hand, with a glove on it, that it wasn't a man, and I saw the face of Master Bertram's mother, that I had seen on the platform.
"Come with me," she said, and she held me, as if she meant to be obeyed.
"But my husband and Bessie!" said I.
"Yes, they are both taken away," said she. "You must come home with me now."
She led me, for I couldn't see rightly, and I kept stumbling over the pebbles: but she held me up, and somebody helped me on the other side, and not a word was said. I couldn't speak either for a time, I felt so strange: and then I had a pain in my left shoulder, and I suppose I put my hand there, for the lady said, "Does it hurt much?"