Noll answered, assuringly, "Nothing very serious, Hagar. I've been in—the sea. Oh, Uncle Richard! how did you find me?"
Trafford set his burden down upon the three-legged stool which Hagar had just vacated, saying,—
"I was looking for you, Noll, and heard your cry. O Heaven! what if I had failed to hear it!"
"I should have been swept away," said Noll.
Here Hagar recovered her wits sufficiently to give a little howl of lamentation.
"Out ob de sea! out ob de sea!" she cried; "de Lord he t'anked fur it! Dat yer sea am a drefful t'ing, honey,—allers swallerin', swallerin', an' nebber ken get 'nough fur itself, nohow. Hagar's seen it; she knows what dat yer sea is, an' t'ank de Lord, he's let ye come out of it alive. Mas'r Dick, why don't ye t'ank Him fur savin' ob yer boy fur ye?"
"Hush!" said Trafford, his face growing gloomy; "find Noll some dry clothes, Hagar. Quick, woman!"
"Yes, in a minnit, Mas'r Dick; quick's I ken git dis yer ole candle lit. But ef ye don't t'ank de Lord now, ye'll have to come to it 'fore long, Mas'r Dick; Hagar tells ye so! dat yer time'll come! it'll come!"
"Hush!" said Trafford, harshly, "and do as I bade you."
Hagar went out, sighing, "Dat time'll come, dat time'll come, bress de Lord!"