There was no time to do anything. At the instant he turned, his left scull came into violent contact with the oars of the Noah’s Ark, and was jerked from his hand, and at the same time the light boat gave a violent lurch over and capsized, sending her occupant headlong into the river!
The small boys, pale with fright and dazed by the suddenness of the accident, sat for a moment unable to move or cry out. Then by a sudden wild impulse Parson sprang boldly into the water, followed in a second or two first by Telson, then by Lawkins. The other three held to the oars and waited where they were.
The tide was running down at a good pace, and the river was fairly wide, but there was not much danger to any of the immersed ones. All Willoughby boys could swim, and as Mr Parrett had taught most of them to do so himself, he hardly stood in need of the help of his three pupils. A few strokes brought them all to the bank in safety.
An uncomfortable moment ensued. Mr Parrett said nothing to the three dripping boys who stood before him, but called to the boys in the boat to row in, bringing the skiff with them.
All the while this was being done, Telson and Parson looked despairingly at one another, and darted scared looks at Mr Parrett. He appeared not to notice them, but stood impatiently waiting for the boats.
“Is the scull broken?” he called out as they approached.
“No, sir,” said Wakefield.
The skiff was put in close to the bank, and a brief examination showed that it was not damaged. Mr Parrett got into it, and without saying a word began to push off.
“Please, sir,” cried Parson at this point, feeling that his last chance was going, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t know it was you, sir. It was all my fault.”
“No, sir,” shouted Telson, “it was all my fault. We’re awfully sorry, sir.”