The dawn was breaking before they got back, and they were welcomed with a shout from their waiting comrades, who were watching anxiously for the return of the boat. There was disappointment, however, in the little crowd of watchers when they saw only the brave crew returning from the perilous journey.
"What, nothing!" exclaimed one of the men, as the boat drew close in shore.
"Only a child, and that may be dead," shouted one of the crew.
"But I think it's alive," said Coomber. "Run, Peters, and rouse up your missus; the womenfolk are better hands at such jobs than we are;" and as soon as he could leave the boat, he picked up the white bundle, and hurried after Peters, leaving his companions to tell the story of their disappointment.
Mrs. Peters was a motherly woman, and had already lighted a fire to prepare some breakfast for her husband, in readiness for his return from the beach, so the wet clothes were soon taken off the child, and they saw it was a little girl about five years old, fair and delicate-looking, decently, but not richly clad, with a small silver medal hung round her neck by a black ribbon. At first they feared the poor little thing was dead, for it was not until Mrs. Peters had well-nigh exhausted all her best-known methods for restoring the apparently drowned, that the little waif showed any sign of returning life.
Coomber stood watching with silent but intense anxiety the efforts of the dame to restore animation, not daring to join in the vigorous chafings and slappings administered, for fear his rough horny hands should hurt the tender blue-white limbs.
For some time the woman was too much occupied with her task to notice his presence, but when her labour was rewarded by a faint sigh, and a slightly-drawn breath parted the pale lips, she heard a grunt of satisfaction behind her; and turning her head, she exclaimed, "What gowks men are, to be sure."
"Eh, what is it, dame?" said Coomber, meekly; for he had conceived a wonderful respect for Mrs. Peters during the last ten minutes. "Ha' you been a-standing there like a post all this while, and never put out yer hand to help save the child?" she said, reproachingly.
"I couldn't, dame, I couldn't with such hands as these; but I'll do anything for you that I can," whispered the fisherman, as though he feared to disturb the child.
"Well, I want a tub of hot water," snapped Mrs. Peters. "You'll find the tub in the backyard, and the kettle's near on the boil. Look sharp and get the tub, and then go upstairs and get a blanket off the bed."