"You really think that we shall save him?" queried Eric, more to hear the doctor's assurance than because of any doubt of the result.
"We have saved him," was the reply. "In a day or two he'll be as well as he ever was. And, to my thinking, he'll be wiser than he was before, for he'll never do such a silly thing as to go out for a swim at night-time after dinner with—well, after a heavy dinner."
"Seems too bad that we can't tell his friend," the boy suggested. "It's just awful to hear him accusing himself all through the night."
"If he's asleep," the doctor answered, "that's better for him than anything else. Oh, I don't know," he continued, "he seems to be stirring. Do you want to tell him?"
Eric flashed a grateful glance at the doctor.
"If I might?"
"Go ahead!"
"Mr. Willett," said the boy, coming close to the stretcher. "Mr. Willett!"
"Well?" said the rescued man, waking out of a remorse-haunted dream.
"Jake has been saved. He's all right."