"Yes, yes," he answered excitedly. "I can see Roger in the bow, and—yes—Uncle Martin, too! There are two fishermen rowing. Oh, Polly, we're saved! Oh, how thankful I am!"
"Are you certain they see us?" the little girl asked, rubbing her eyes, which were full of tears—tears of glad relief and joy now.
"Oh yes, yes! They're coming straight towards us as fast as ever they can. It will be all right now, Polly."
Ten minutes later the children had been rescued from their hazardous position and in little more than half an hour afterwards, the two stalwart fishermen who plied the oars ran the boat high and dry upon the beach at Lynn, where quite half the village had assembled, as well as Mrs. Trent and Cousin Becky, all anxious to be assured of the young folks' safety. Polly, on account of her injured foot, had to be carried to the Mill House, and made the journey in her father's arms, whilst her mother walked by her side, listening, with breathless interest, to her account of all that had occurred. Cousin Becky followed with the boys; and Roger explained to Edgar that he had had some difficulty in getting a boat, and when he had at length succeeded in his quest and had been on the point of starting, his father, who had meanwhile returned from his drive, had come down to the beach and been just in time to accompany him.
"Father was dreadfully frightened," Roger said, "and the fishermen were awfully grave, for you know the tide will rise much higher yet. It would have been all right if Polly had not hurt her foot, for she could have climbed the cliff as well as I did, though, of course, she would have made a fuss. It was very kind of you to stay with her, Edgar. Don't you think so?" he asked of Cousin Becky.
"Very kind and very brave," she answered promptly. "I am sure every one must think so."
Cousin Becky was right, for it was unanimously agreed that Edgar was the hero of the occasion. His heart swelled with pleasure when his uncle spoke of his pluck, and his aunt kissed him and thanked him gratefully for his consideration for her little girl.
"I couldn't have climbed any higher," Polly declared with a shudder as, later on, having had her ankle bathed and bandaged, she reclined upon the sofa in the sitting-room and was waited upon by Roger, who brought her her tea, "and Edgar wouldn't go even when I told him to and said I'd rather he did. I'm afraid that wasn't quite true, because I was so frightened at the thought of being alone, but I didn't want to be selfish. Oh, Roger, do you remember that we didn't wish him to come to Lynn? I'm sure I should have been drowned to-day if hadn't been for him. He made me climb up to that ledge of rock, and if I hadn't—"
"Don't talk of it any more," Roger broke in. "It was awfully fine of Edgar to behave as he did. I'm glad I forgave him for the way he treated me about the Calais Noble," he added, "for he's made up for everything now."
"I shall tell him what you say," Polly returned. And she kept her word, thereby giving her cousin the keenest pleasure he had experienced for many a day.