“Now!” he shouted; “can you hold on?”
There was no answer from either, and Macey hesitated for a few moments, but, seeing how desperate a grip both now had, he seized one of the recovered sculls, thrust it out over the rowlock, and pulled and paddled first at the side, then over the stern till, by help of the current, he guided the boat with its clinging freight into shallow water where he leaped overboard, seized Gilmore, and dragged him right up the sandy shallow to where his head lay clear. He then went back and seized Vane in turn, after literally unhooking his cramped fingers from the side, and dragged him through the shallow water a few yards, before he realised that his fellow-pupil’s other hand was fixed, with what for the moment looked to be a death-grip, in Distin’s clothes.
This task was more difficult, but by the time he had dragged Vane alongside of Gilmore, the latter was slowly struggling up to his feet; and in a confused, staggering way he lent a hand to get Vane’s head well clear of the water on to the warm dry pebbles, and then between them they dragged Distin right out beyond the pebbles on to the grass.
“One moment,” cried Macey, and he dashed into the water again just in time to catch hold of the boat, which was slowly floating away. Then wading back he got hold of the chain, and twisted it round a little blackthorn bush on the bank.
“I’m better now,” gasped Gilmore. And then, “Oh, Aleck, Aleck, they’re both dead!”
“They aren’t,” shouted Macey fiercely. “Look! Old Weathercock’s moving his eyes, but I’m afraid of poor old Colonist. Here, hi, Vane, old man! You ain’t dead, are you? Catch hold, Gil, like this, under his arm. Now, together off!”
They seized Vane, and, raising his head and shoulders, dragged him up on to the grass, near where Distin lay, apparently past all help, and a groan escaped from Gilmore’s lips, as, rapidly regaining his strength and energy, he dropped on his knees beside him.
“It’s all right,” shouted Macey, excitedly, when a whisper would have done. “Weathercock’s beginning to revive again. Hooray, old Vane! You’ll do. We must go to Distie.”
Vane could not speak, but he made a sign, which they interpreted to mean, go; and the next moment they were on their knees by Distin’s side, trying what seemed to be the hopeless task of reviving him. For the lad’s face looked ghastly in the extreme; and, though Macey felt his breast and throat, there was not the faintest pulsation perceptible.
But they lost no time; and Gilmore, who was minute by minute growing stronger, joined in his companion’s efforts at resuscitation from a few rather hazy recollections of a paper he had once read respecting the efforts to be made with the apparently drowned.