When Mr Armstrong, having with some difficulty taken in who and where he was, proceeded, as was natural under the circumstances, to feel for his eye-glass, he discovered that his right arm hung powerless at his side, and refused to perform its familiar functions. The next thing he was aware of was that Rosalind and the doctor were kneeling on the rocks beside the senseless form of Roger, who lay, white as a corpse, with the blood trickling from a gash on the temple. Then Jill crept beside him, pale and sobbing, and said something, he did not hear what. Finally the ruddy countenance of Tom dawned upon him, and made him aware, even in the midst of his dream, that one person at least had thoroughly enjoyed the day’s adventures, and was no whit the worse either for the fright or the drenching.
How they all got up to Maxfield the tutor was never able to say, for the pain of his broken arm became so intense that he was as near swooning as he had ever been in his life, and but for the timely services of the doctor, who was able to give him some little relief, he might have disgraced himself for ever by fainting light off. He remembered seeing Roger lying in the carriage with eyes half open, his head on Rosalind’s shoulder. And he remembered feeling his own hand held fast in the two hands of his little champion.
The next thing he was conscious of was that he was in his own bed, with his arm firmly bound beside him, and the friendly face of Dr Brandram bent over him.
“That’s better, isn’t it, old fellow?” said the latter. “It’s a wonder it was only the arm. You must keep quiet now, for you shipped a lot of water, and were a quarter drowned into the bargain.”
“What about Roger?”
“He’ll do now—at least I hope so. I was concerned about him at first, but he came round. I envy you your plunge. Just my luck! All the big things are done by the other fellows, and I’m left to hold on to the rope and order the physic. Never mind. I never expected to see either of you out of that caldron. I certainly could never have come out myself.”
“Miss Oliphant—is she all right?”
“Right as a trivet; and has mounted guard over her cousin already. If he doesn’t get well with her for nurse, he’s an obstinate, customer.”
“Thanks, Brandram. Come again soon.”
Captain Oliphant’s concern at this untoward misadventure may well be imagined. He shed tears with the mother over their “dear one’s” narrow escape, and censured in terms of righteous indignation all who had been parties to the hazardous expedition.