“I’ll take care,” said Rollitt.
As the two boys now walked slowly, towards the cottage, Fisher minor could see that his companion’s face was working ominously. He mistook it for ill-temper at the time, for he did not know Mrs Wisdom’s history, or what the wreck meant to her.
She was at her door as they approached, and as she looked up and saw their long faces, the poor woman jumped at the truth at once.
“Don’t say there’s anything wrong with the boat, Master Rollitt. Don’t tell me that.”
Rollitt nodded, almost sternly.
“It went over the fall,” said Fisher, feeling that something ought to be said. “Rollitt only just got out in time.”
“Over the fall! Then it’s smashed,” cried she, bursting into tears. “It was to keep our body and soul together this season. Now what’ll become of us! Oh, Master Rollitt, I did think you’d take care of my boat. It was all I had left—bar the children. What’ll they do now?”
Rollitt stood by grimly silent till she had had her cry and looked up.
“I’m sorry,” said he, in a voice that meant what it said. “What was it worth?”
“Worth? Everything to me.”