The event, of course, caused a tremendous sensation in the town. Many people spoke harshly of Jim, but all admired his courage both in attempting to save the drowning boy and in frankly telling the truth afterwards.
"The lad has grit," remarked the doctor who had brought him round. "I hope he won't take it too much to heart."
He was a Scotsman named Stewart, a pleasant, cheery fellow, well known in Beauleigh both for his ability and kindliness.
"I've a good mind to call and have a look at him," said he. "What's his address?" pulling out his notebook. "Hum! Brook Street! Not very much burdened with this world's goods, I expect."
That same evening Mrs. Hartland was startled by a loud rat-tat, and going to the door, found the doctor there.
"Good-evening!" said he briskly; "are you Mrs. Hartland? I am the doctor who attended your boy, and I've come to have a look at him. No, no; don't make a fuss. I'll come straight through, if you don't mind." And closing the door, he followed Mrs. Hartland into the sitting-room.
"Well, young shaver," said he, patting Jim on the back, "how do you feel now?—better? That was a very plucky thing you did.—You ought to be proud of him, ma'am; he deserves the Society's medal. And who is this young lady?" stooping to touch Susie's hair. "Can't get up? Dear me! that is sad. Any one attending her?"
"Not now, sir. You see, the doctors—"
"Quite so; I understand. Now, suppose I have a look at her in the morning—eh? I've had some experience in these cases. I shan't call professionally—just as a friend of this young gentleman's, you know."
"O sir, how can I thank you?" exclaimed Mrs. Hartland gratefully.