Meg admitted the possibility of being scolded. Her rescuers vowed that they would plead for her. They would extract a promise from the schoolmistress not to punish her. Meg must not be scolded; Meg must be welcomed home like the prodigal returning.
"There!" exclaimed Meg dejectedly, pointing to a group of girls and teachers looking up and down the river. She enjoyed the amazement of the spectators as from the bank they watched her triumphant return. With a sweep of the oars the boat came alongside the shore. Miss Reeves stepped forward.
"You must have been frightened, madam, at this young lady's disappearance," said Meg's rescuer, jumping on shore.
Meg allowed herself to be helped out like a princess by the oarsmen.
"We had not long missed the child," replied Miss Reeves. "We were startled when we discovered that the boat was gone. She ought not to have gone alone—it was very thoughtless."
"The boat drifted away with her—it nearly carried her down the weir," said the spokesman. "She was very courageous."
Meg felt herself pleaded for, and listened, motionless.
"You saved her life?" said Miss Reeves.
"I was able, by swimming out in time, to turn the boat's head," replied the young man lightly. "She behaved with great pluck."
"I am most grateful, and I shall acquaint her guardians," said Miss Reeves.