Together both men pulled the apparently drowned boy to the top.
"Jabez, you are one of the greatest I know of," said the big man, as he helped to carry the senseless figure to a grass-plot.
"Tush!" was the answer. "I'm a good swimmer, mayhap, for my light weight and growing years, that's all." Indeed, this had been proved, for the small one had not even paused to remove his coat. "The lad's alive," he went on, speaking with his ear pressed close to Carter's chest. "Bear a hand quickly, we must get him in-doors."
"Ay, but where?" rejoined the larger.
"To our friend the widow's. 'Tis but a step."
Again they picked up their burden and disappeared in the mist.
When Carter Hewes came to his senses he found himself in a little room that was nearly filled by the big four-poster bed in which he lay. His head throbbed, and he felt faint and weary. But the feeling of being safe and warm was so comforting that he did not at once worry as to his whereabouts.
Some persons were talking close to him; he could hear the words they said, but at first he could not raise himself. At last he got up, however, on his elbow. The voices came from behind the closed door at the head of his bed.
"I am sick of hiding here like a fat badger in a strange hole that, by-the-way, is much too small for comfort," grumbled a deep voice.
"Take heart. It's for a righteous cause," answered a high-pitched one.