“I thought Fergus got too absorbed.”
“So did I,” said his father dryly. “And he did not justify himself.”
“M—m—m,” went on Gerald, skimming the article.
“Read it,” cried Anna. “You know none of us have seen it.”
Gerald continued—
“‘Their perilous position having been observed from Anscombe cliffs, Mr. G. F. Underwood of Vale Leston heroically’ (i.e. humbugically) ‘made his way out to their assistance, while a boat was put off by the Coast-guard, and that of Mr. Carter, fisherman, from Rockquay was launched somewhat later.’ We could not see either of them, you know. My eye, this is coming it strong! ‘The young baronet generously insisted that the little fisher-boy, David Blake, who had accompanied them, should first be placed in safety—‘”
“Didn’t he?” exclaimed Anna. “I saw, and I wondered, but I thought it was his doing.”
“You saw?”
“Yes, in the Coast-guard’s telescope.”
“Oh! That is a new feature in the case!”