“Ay, but that was for taking the poor boy across. No, Master Vine, we’ve been talking it over, the five on us, and there’s the boat, and one night’s fishing gone as might have been a good one or it mightn’t been nothing; so we’re going to ask you to pay us a pound a-piece.”
“But—”
“Good-day, Master Vine, busy now. I’ll come on in a day or two.”
The man turned away abruptly, and, with his brow heavily wrinkled, as he felt moved by the man’s generosity, Vine walked slowly on, and overtook Louise and Madelaine.
Mrs Van Heldre was waiting in the hall as the little party entered, and she hurried forward with extended hands, and her lips parted to speak, but no words would came. She could only press her old friend’s hand before leading him up to where Van Heldre lay, his face ghastly pale beneath his bandaged head.
As they entered he held out his hand to Vine, who stood gazing at him without an attempt to accept the friendly grip.
“Louise, my child,” said Van Heldre, turning to her; and she stepped quickly across to take the extended hand. “Now leave us,” he said quietly; and, in obedience to his wish, the rest quitted the room.
“You did not take my hand, George Vine,” said Van Heldre, as soon as they were alone.
“How can I, after the wrong you have received at mine?”
“Hah! that is why I sent for you,” said Van Heldre. “I have lain here insensible and ignorant of what was done, else those proceedings would never have been taken. You have much to forgive me, Vine.”