In a few moments they were close to the quay, and the little sodden mass that purported to be Fergus was calling out—
“Aunt Jane! Oh, I’ve lost such a bit of aralia. Where’s Davy?”
“Here, take care. He is all right,” were Gerald’s words.
He meant Adrian, whom his cousin lifted out, with eyes open and conscious, but with limp hands and white exhausted looks, to be carried to the fly that stood in waiting.
“Is the other boy safe?” asked Gerald anxiously.
“Oh yes; but how could you?” were the first words that came to Anna; but she felt rebuked by a strange look of utter surprise, and instead of answering her he replied to General Mohun—
“Thanks, no, I’ll walk up!” as a rough coat was thrown over his dripping and scanty garments.
“The wisest way,” said the General. “Can you, Fergus?”
“Yes, quite well. Oh, my aralia!”
“He has been half crying all the way home about his fossils,” said Gerald. “Never mind, Fergus; look out for the next spring-tide. Uncle Clem, you ought to drive up.”