Guy does as he is told, and in fifty strokes the boathouse is reached, and girl and rescuer are safe. A storm of cheering, greater even than that which greeted the winning of the boat race, now testifies to the gallantry of the boy's second feat and the relief of all that the girl is safe. Meanwhile, the remainder of the overturned crew have been rescued by boats rowed from the bank.
Arrived at the boat-house, willing hands hung on to the dingy while Mr. Brimley-Fair stepped out of her. Then, bringing her side gently to the platform, they grasped Guy Hardcastle and his burden and lifted them into safety. The girl was pale and insensible, but she breathed; a doctor was quickly in attendance; and after the usual restorative methods had been applied for a quarter of an hour, the patient came round, was carried to a neighbouring hotel, put to bed, and by the evening was well enough to be taken home.
After the doctor had taken charge of the half-drowned girl, Mr. Brimley-Fair turned his attention to Guy Hardcastle, still dripping from his immersion.
"Now, my boy," he said, kindly patting him on the shoulder, "you have done splendidly. That was a plucky thing to do. You remembered all your life-saving lessons--which some of the boys seem to think a bore--and deserve, and I hope will get, the Humane Society's Medal. But, medal or no medal, you did your duty and a brave thing, and we are all proud of you. Now go and get your clothes off and a rub down. You look tired and chilled, as well you may, after rowing that fine race and saving a girl's life. I've sent for some brandy, and you'll soon be all right again."
"All right, sir," said the boy, cheerful though shivering. "I shall be quite fit as soon as I get into my clothes."
The brandy soon arrived, and the lad was given a small quantity in some water. Thoroughly dried and rubbed down, he was, not long after, clothed and comfortable again, and quite equal to doing his duty by his adversaries of the recent boat race, who with his own schoolmates were loud in admiration of his latest feat.
The rival crews had some food together, under the chairmanship of Mr. Brimley-Fair; and later on, the Midland crew having been seen off at the station, the Western lads took train for their own school.
About ten days after these events, Guy Hardcastle received news that altered the whole course of his life. The son of a mining engineer, whose duties took him much away from England into distant parts of the world, the lad had had the misfortune to lose his mother at a very early age. He lived during his vacations with an aunt, a sister of his father's, a Miss Hardcastle, who lived at a quiet country house in the county of Durham. Beyond two families of cousins living in the same county, the lad had few other relatives in England. He had, however, an Uncle Charles, his mother's only brother, living in South Africa, who came home occasionally to England, and to whom he was greatly attached. In fact, next to his father, the lad looked upon his Uncle Charles as his greatest friend. Guy was now a month or two past seventeen. He had been four years at his present school, where he was an immense favourite. Captain of the rowing club, he had not time or opportunity to devote himself, as he would have liked, to cricket, and was not therefore in the eleven. But he was in the twenty-two. He was also a distinguished member of the football team, and a good athlete. At the last sports he had won the mile in the record time for his school of four minutes forty-nine seconds, and had, in addition, carried off the half-mile, the quarter-mile, and the grand steeplechase. Winning as well the long jump and throwing the cricket ball, he was easily victor ludorum in the school sports.
Although not a brilliantly clever boy, he was possessed of quite average brains. He was, in addition, a steady and consistent worker, with the result that he was now in the highest form in the school, on the modern side, and a prefect. A thoroughly good stamp of an English schoolboy, excellent at work, keen at games, good tempered, reliable, and steady, Guy Hardcastle was undoubtedly all round the most popular boy in the school. He owed not a little of his popularity to his character, which was strong, simple, and always to be relied upon. His schoolfellows knew that he hated meanness and lying; that he was the foe of the bully and the sneak; that the side he took was the side always of truth and honour and duty. In his own house his force of character and his steady example had insensibly created within the last year or so a vast improvement in the whole tone and spirit of the community of fifty boys; and his house-master, Mr. Brimley-Fair, well knew how valuable an ally he had in the boy, in those directions where the precepts and admonitions of the master are not always able to penetrate.
Guy Hardcastle expected at this period to have another year of school life. After that time it was his father's intention to send him to the School of Mines in Jermyn Street, London, to prepare him for the profession of a mining engineer, which he himself followed. The fateful news that Guy received came to him one morning in a letter which, by the handwriting, postmark, and stamp, he knew was from his Uncle Charles, in British Bechuanaland. The first few lines read by him as he sat at breakfast turned his ruddy cheek pale. He read no further, but thrust the letter into his pocket, hurriedly finished his meal, and went to his study. There he took out the letter again, and, sadly and with a clouded brow, perused the contents, which were as follows:--