"I'll go home with Campbell, and send the bottle up by a man and horse," cries Scoutbush; and away the two trot at a gallant pace, for a cross-country run home.
"Mr. Tardrew, come with me, there's a good man!—I shall want help."
Tardrew made no reply, but dashed through the river at his heels.
Trebooze had already climbed the plashed fence, and was running wildly across the meadow. Tom dragged Tardrew up it after him.
"Thank 'ee, sir," but nothing more. The two had not met since the cholera.
Trebooze fell, and lay rolling, trying in vain to shield his face from the phantom wasps.
They lifted him up, and spoke gently to him.
"Better get home to Mrs. Trebooze, sir," said Tardrew, with as much tenderness as his gruff voice could convey.
"Yes, home! home to Molly! My Molly's always kind. She won't let me be eaten up alive. Molly, Molly!"
And shrieking for his wife, the wretched man started to run again.