“Hallo!” he said; “I see I must take off my shoes and stockings, and wade.”
But on the slippery piece of rock upon which he was standing he had no room to do this without losing his balance and tumbling over; so Power had in a moment taken off his own shoes and stockings, turned up his trousers above the knees, and waded up to him.
“Now,” he said, “get on my back, and I’ll carry you in unwetted.”
“Thanks, Power,” he said, as Power deposited him on the sand; “I’m much obliged.”
Not knowing whether Power would like to be seen with him
or not, he looked at him shyly, and was walking off in another direction, when Power, who was putting on his stockings again, said to him playfully—
“What, Walter; haven’t you the grace to wait for me, after my having delivered you from such a noyade? Excuse my calling you Walter; I hear Kenrick and Henderson do it, and somehow you’re one of those fellows whom one meets now and then, whose Christian name seems to suit them more naturally than the other.”
“By all means call me Walter, Power; and I’ll wait for you gladly if you like,” said Walter, blushing as he added, “I thought you might not like to walk with me.”
“Not like? Nonsense. I should like it particularly. Let’s take a turn along the shore; we shall just have time before roll-call.”