But just then there was a tremendous splash, and the big boat rocked to and fro, the captive gig danced, and Bob uttered another of his canine yelps, for Peter had suddenly stepped on to the gunwale, dived in after something he had seen touch the surface of the water twenty yards lower down, where it had been rolled over and over by the rapid tide, and a minute later, as he swam vigorously, he shouted—“I’ve got him!”
And he was seen holding the boy’s head above the water, as he turned to try and stem the current, and swim back to the boat.
The task was not long, for the two sailors sent her down with a few vigorous sweeps of their oars, and Dexter and his rescuer were dragged over the side, as the man with the tub slowly backed away.
No time was lost in reaching the shore, and the insensible boy was carried up to the principal hotel in the port, where quite an hour elapsed before the surgeon whose services were sought was able to pause from his arduous task, and announce that his patient would live.
For it was a very narrow escape, and the surgeon said, as he shook hands with Dr Grayson—
“Some men would have given it up in despair, sir. But there he is, safe and sound, and, I dare say, boy-like, it will not be very long before he gets into some mischief again.”
Sir James Danby coughed, and Doctor Grayson frowned as he met his friend’s peculiar look. But nothing was said then till the surgeon had been up to see his patient once more, after which he returned, reported that Dexter had sunk into a sound slumber, and then took his leave.
“I suppose we shall not go back to Coleby to-night?” said Sir James.
“I shall not,” said the doctor; “but, my dear Danby, pray don’t let me keep you.”
“Oh! you will not keep me,” said Sir James quietly. “I’ve got to make arrangements about my boat being taken up the river.”