“Give me the child,” said a strange voice. “Which is the house? Here—the mother and one woman, come. Keep the crowd away.”
In a confused way I saw a tall man in black take the child in his arms, and I thought how wet he would make himself; while Mrs Gentles, panting and gasping for breath, seized me by the hand; and then they passed on in the middle of the crowd, augmented by a number of workmen, and disappeared into the cottage I knew so well.
“What! Was it you, Uncle Jack?” I said, looking up in his grave big eyes.
“Yes, my boy; and I only just came in time. How are you?”
“Horribly wet,” I said grimly and with a shiver. Then forcing a laugh as he held my hands tightly in his. “Why, you’re just as bad.”
“Yes, but you—are you all right?”
“Oh, yes, uncle! There’s nothing the matter with me.”
“Then come along and let’s run home. Never mind appearances; let’s get into some dry clothes. But I should like to hear about the child.”
It was an easy thing to say, but not to do. We wanted to go to Gentles’ house, but we were surrounded by a dense crowd; and the next minute a lot of rough men were shaking both Uncle Jack’s hands and fighting one with the other to get hold of them, while I—
Just fancy being in the middle of a crowd of women, and all of them wanting to throw their arms round me and kiss me at once.