Leaving his basket for a time, he was lost among the trees, to reappear in a few minutes far below, out on the water in a boat, where he undressed and went overboard.
"A good example," thought De Courval. Taking a towel, he slipped out noiselessly through the house where no one was yet astir, and finding a little bathhouse open below the garden, was soon stripped, and, wading out, began to swim. By this time the gardener was returning, swimming well and with the ease of an expert when the two came near one another a couple of hundred yards from shore.
As they drew together, De Courval called out in alarm: "Look out! Take care!"
Two small lads in a large Egg Harbor skiff, seeing the swimmer in their way, made too late an effort to avoid him. A strong west wind was blowing. The boat was moving fast. De Courval saw the heavy bow strike the head of the man, who was quite unaware of the nearness of the boat. He went under. De Courval struck out for the stern of the boat, and in its wake caught sight of a white body near the surface. He seized it, and easily got the man's head above water. The boat came about, the boys scared and awkward. With his left hand, De Courval caught the low gunwale and with his right held up the man's head. Then he felt the long body stir. The great, laboring chest coughed out water, and the man, merely stunned and, as he said later, only quarter drowned, drew deep breaths and gasped, "Let them pull to shore." The boys put out oars in haste, and in a few minutes De Courval felt the soft mud as he dropped his feet and stood beside the German. In a minute the two were on the beach, the one a young, white figure with the chest muscles at relieving play; the other a tall, gaunt, bronzed man, shaking and still coughing as he cast himself on the bordering grass without a word.
"Are you all right?" asked De Courval, anxiously.
For a moment the rescued man made no reply as he lay looking up at the sky. Then he said: "Yes, or will be presently. This sun is a good doctor and sends in no bill. Go in and dress. I shall be well presently. My boat! Ah, the boys bring it. Now my clothes. Do not scold them. It was an accident."
"That is of the past," he said in a few moments as De Courval rejoined him, "a contribution to experience. Thank you," and he put out a hand that told of anything but the usage of toil as he added: "I was wondering, as I dressed, which is the better for it, the helper or the helped. Ach, well, it is a good introduction. You are mein Herr de Courval, and I am Johann Schmidt, at your honorable service now and ever. Let us go in. I must rest a little before breakfast. I have known you,"—and he laughed,—"shall we say five years? We will not trouble the women with it."
"I? Surely not."
"Pardon me. I was thinking of my own tongue, which is apt to gabble, being the female part of a man's body."
"May I beg of you not to speak of it," urged De Courval, gravely.