He had nearly reached the boat, when the plank slipped from the wharf, and he was precipitated into the river. It was a strong ebb tide, and a few feet would carry him under the vessel. Walter caught the end of a rope and dove. For a moment he disappeared, and Tom and Frost feared that their friend was drowned. The next instant he appeared at the surface holding Lord Wallace by the hair.
Tom and Frost pulled in the rope, and grand-father and grand-son were safely landed. The elder Wallace was apparently dead.
Stand back, men! Stand back! cried Tom at the top of his voice. Roll him on the barrel, Jack.
There men, gently. Roll him gently, said Walter.
The rolling had the desired effect, and in a few moments he was relieved of the water he had taken in, and showed signs of returning consciousness. In a few moments he was able to speak.
To whom am I indebted for my deliverance from a watery grave? he asked.
To this young man, replied Tom pointing to Walter.
Are you one of the crew of the Reindeer?
I have the honor to serve in that capacity to-day my Lord.
The keen eyes of the old man was bent on the youth before him, and something there reminded him of days long passed. He saw in the young man a duplicate of a picture that hung in his gallery. Memory flashed the fact home that more than twenty years before he had driven from his home the exact counterpart of the young man who had so nobly saved his life.