The children on the rocks uttered an affrighted scream as they saw them both disappear. But Beryl's head soon re-appeared above the waves as she tried to strike out for the shore. But her strength was spent, and the weight of her clothes dragged her down. The tide, too, was dead against her. She could make no way against it, whilst she held the child; yet she would not let him go.
Again both sank beneath the sea, and when Beryl again rose to the surface, she saw that she had drifted still further from the land. And now she saw that she must die, and oh! How dear life seemed to her at that moment! Her father's love, her happy home, all the precious things that were hers rose before her mind. But then came the thought of God, her Father, and a blessed sense that she was in His hands for life or for death. And Beryl passed into unconsciousness without fear or distress.
But the work of Beryl's young life was not yet over. God had heard her cry for help. A boat with two fishermen in it was rounding Sheldon Point, and the screams of the children on the rocks brought them quickly to the spot. One of them dived into the water, and clutched the children as they rose for the last time to the surface. With his comrade's help they were lifted into the boat, and rowed swiftly to the shore.
Both were apparently lifeless when lifted out of the water; but the men took prompt measures for their restoration, and Beryl soon showed signs of returning animation. She was carried into Joe Pollard's cottage, which was nearest to the spot where the adventure had occurred, and his wife did everything she could for her, whilst the news of what had happened was sent to Egloshayle House.
It was feared for some time that help had come too late for the little boy; but the persevering efforts made to restore him at last had their reward; he revived, and in the end fared much better than Beryl.
Lucy came in the carriage, and conveyed her young lady home. She was put to bed, and every precaution taken to ward off ill effects; but ere long shivering fits came on. By night she was in a high fever, and the doctor, who was summoned, did not disguise that he thought very seriously of her case. When, on his second visit the next morning, he found no improvement in her symptoms, he deemed it advisable to at once telegraph to her father.
Mr. Hollys was in Paris, and though he started on his journey homeward as soon as possible, he did not arrive at Egloshayle till the evening of the following day. He entered his home with a sinking heart. It was hard to miss Beryl's bounding step and rapturous greeting. He came in quietly, and refusing all refreshment till he had seen his child, stole noiselessly upstairs to Beryl's sick-room.
What a change met his eyes as he approached her bedside! Beryl's beautiful hair had been shorn off; her face was burning with fever, and her eyes, unnaturally brilliant, looked at him without the least sign of recognition. She was tossing to and fro, and talking incessantly in a wild, rambling way. Now she would cry out that Coral was drowning, and implore some one to save her. Then she seemed to fancy that she herself was sinking in the water, and stretching out her arms, would cry to her father for help, taking no comfort from his presence, though he bent over her with words of tenderest love. Presently she would be calling for Miss Burton, and beseeching her not to go away.
The scene soon became too painful for Guy Hollys, and he left the sick-room and went downstairs, looking worn and haggard from the effects of his long Journey and distress of mind. He made enquiries, and soon learned all that could be told him of the cause of Beryl's illness. He was moved with sorrowful pride to think how bravely Beryl had thrown herself into danger in the hope of saving another's life. But how could he bear it, if that little life had been won at the cost of her own? The fisherman whose boy had so narrowly escaped drowning had many other children; but he, Guy Hollys, had only this one precious child.
"Oh, what a pity it is that Miss Burton is not here!" said his sister to him. "She is invaluable in sickness; she has such health and such strong nerves, not like poor me, whom the least thing upsets."