"He's coming 'round, Missy," he said. His smile was broad, and the little gold rings twinkled in his ears.
Ruth, wet and bedrabbled as she was, did not think of her own discomfort. She knelt beside Uncle Jabez and spoke to him. For some seconds he was so dazed that he did not seem to recognize her. Then he stammered:
"Ha—ha——I knowed we couldn't do it. No—no gal kin do a man's work. Ha!"
This seemed rather hard on Ruth, after she had done her best, and it had not been her fault that the boat was wrecked, but she was too excited just then to trouble about the miller's grumbling.
"Oh, Uncle! you're not badly hurt, are you?"
"Ha—hum! I dunno," stuttered the miller, and sat up. He rubbed his forehead and brought his hand, with a little blood upon it, back to the level of his eyes. "I vum!" he ejaculated, with more interest than before. "I must ha' cracked my head some. Why was it I didn't drown?"
"This little missy, here," said the black-eyed youth, quickly. "She saved you, Mister. She held your head above water till I come."
"Why—why——Niece Ruth! you did that?"
"Oh, it was nothing, Uncle Jabez! I am so glad you are not hurt worse. This boy really saved you. He brought you ashore."
"Who be ye, young man?" asked the miller. "I'm obleeged to ye—if what my niece says is true."