Bert was very much in earnest when he assured him he would not, and still more in earnest when he tried to express his gratitude. But Connors would none of it.
"Not at all, not at all, my boy," said he, with a laugh. "A fine young chap like you is well worth saving any day, and it's not in John Connors to stand by and see you drown, even if those black-faced furriners don't know any better."
CHAPTER XXI.
LEARNING TO SWIM.
Bert's appearance, when he made his way home with dripping clothes, and face still pale from what he had undergone, created no small consternation. His sister was particularly alarmed, and it took some time to convince her that, once having got out of the grasp of the greedy water, he was really in no more danger. Had she been permitted to have her own way, she would have bundled him off to bed forthwith, and filled up any little corners inside of him that the sea water had left unoccupied, with warm raspberry vinegar. But Bert would none of it, and Mrs. Lloyd, although a good deal startled at first, soon recovered her self-possession sufficiently to agree with him, when he insisted that all he wanted was some dry clothes and a rest.
The dry clothes were quickly furnished, and having put them on, he returned to the sitting-room to tell them all about his rescue, Frank being at hand to fill in any details that he missed in the recital. The tears stood in his mother's eyes, as he related what he had felt and thought during those eventful moments when his life hung in the balance; tears of distress, of sympathy, of joy, and finally of gratitude, as in glowing words he described how noble John Connors had dived away down into the dark green depths to rescue him just in the nick of time.
"Oh, Bert, darling," she exclaimed, when he had finished, folding him to her breast, "how good God was to send dear, brave Connors to your help! We cannot praise Him enough, and, dearest, don't you think He must intend you to be something good and great for Him, when He thus spared your life? And that dear man Connors!—I feel as though I could kiss the hands that drew you from the water. Your father must go to-night, and tell him how grateful we are; and he must do more than that—he must reward him well for running such a risk to save our boy."
When Mr. Lloyd came home and learned what had happened, he made no pretence of concealing his emotion. The very thought of losing in that dreadful way the boy who was the joy and pride of his life filled him with horror, and no words could express his fervent gratitude to Connors, and to God, for sending so courageous a rescuer. So soon as dinner was over he set off in search of him, taking Bert with him. Connors's home was easily found, and Connors himself sat smoking his evening pipe upon the door-step, as unconcernedly as though he had done nothing out of the way that afternoon.