“Then let’s go and give it to old Hardock; that’ll warm you up. I feel red hot now.”
Gwyn began to rub his chest softly, where the rope had cut into him, and the boys walked together to where Hardock sat with his back to them, smoking.
The man did not hear them coming till they were close to him, when he started round suddenly, and faced them, letting the pipe drop from between his lips.
The resentment bubbling up in both of the boys died out on the instant, as they saw the drawn, ghastly face before them.
“Ah, my lads! Ah, my dear lads!” groaned the man; “that’s about the nighest thing I ever see; but, thank goodness, you’re all safe and sound. Would you two mind shaking hands?”
The boys stared at him, then at each other and back.
“Why, Sam!” said Gwyn, huskily.
“Yes; it’s me, my lad,” he replied, with a groan, “what there is left on me. I’ve been trying a pipe, but it aren’t done me no good, not a bit. I seem to see young Jollivet there going head first over the cliff; and the mortal shiver it did send through me was something as I never felt afore.”
“Why, you laughed at us!” said Joe, with his resentment flashing up again.
“Laughed at yer? Course I did. What was I to do? If I’d ha’ told yer both you was in danger, wouldn’t it ha’ frightened you so as you’d ha’ been too froze up to help yourselves?”