Walter’s face was very red.
“I think he’s fainted, or something. I never guessed he’d be scared like that.”
Uncle Fred looked searchingly at the speaker, and then, catching a glimpse of the huddled-up figure in the bow, he stooped down and lifted out the unconscious child.
Bertie’s face was deadly pale, and quite rigid. His wrists were bleeding where the cord had cut into them.
David uttered a frightened cry; and Uncle Fred’s face was very stern.
“What does all this mean?”
The boys were silent; and Queenie tried to make some explanation that should also be an exculpation; but as soon as her uncle had gleaned the bare facts of the case, he cut her short very unceremoniously.
“Go home, all of you! There will be no boating to-day. I have nothing to say to you now. Another time we must talk of your cowardly and cruel conduct. Go away now at once. You must not be in sight when the child recovers. Go! I am very much displeased with you all.”
The boys and their sister moved slowly away in a shamefaced manner, very unlike their usual rattling pace. They heartily wished they had never indulged their teasing propensities to the extent of trying to give Bertie a lesson. Their own good feeling told them they had been wrong, and they were terribly vexed at having incurred Uncle Fred’s displeasure. Queenie and Phil wished now that they had followed their first impulse, and interfered on Bertie’s behalf; but they had been ashamed to do so at first, and now the mischief was done.
Meantime, Uncle Fred had cut the cords that bound Bertie, and had bathed his face with vinegar and water that David brought from the cottage. Very soon Bertie heaved a long, shuddering sigh, and slowly opened his eyes. He did not at first seem to know where he was or who was with him; but after Uncle Fred had spoken to him once or twice kindly, reassuring words, the child appeared to recover himself, and put out a small hand, saying questioningly,—