“Will the rope bear him?” asked Dick, thinking of the other’s failure.
“Yes, sir, bear a house; never you fear!” replied he who took charge of the rope.
The sun had set, the sea looked grey and frowning, the wind sighed and moaned among the rocks. Oscar lay perfectly still and motion-[p135]less; the girls had turned him over, and Inna sat with his head on her lap, his face covered with her handkerchief—it was so terrible to look upon: that was all the change since Dick had left. Jenny sat holding a hand of each of the twins.
“For Dick’s sake; because he promised for them to Madame Giche,” she kept whispering to herself, trying not to shudder when the spray from the rising waters dashed over them. Dick was right; the tide would wash the ledge presently, it was doing its best to reach it now.
How boldly the fisherman made the descent! It was as nothing to him, Dick thought, peering over. He was standing among the little prisoners.
“These first, please,” said Jenny, nodding at her two charges, “because they were given into our care, and they are the youngest.”
“All right, missie,” returned the man, and, taking one of them under his arm, went mounting up like a big fly or a spider.
Hurrah! one was safe, and back he went again. His comrades, with their boat, were standing off at no great distance, on the grey shadowy sea—the whole scene Dick never forgot.
[p136]
“How is it with Master Willett down there?” he asked of the man, as he landed with the first little girl.
While down there he had bent over the lad a moment, and had examined him, so was able to report.