But nothing of the kind occurred, and venturing to raise his head, Jamie saw that the boat had not yet reached the bridge, and what was stranger still, remained stationary, with the spray dashing over its decks in great sheets. And now he understood it all: the Scud had run aground, and just in time too, for the bridge was less than ten feet distant.
All was safe, then, for as the tide was falling, the boat would undoubtedly remain where it was until the gale should subside, and Jamie could be taken off. Meantime, after shouting to the bridge-keeper to send some one out to him as soon as it was possible to do so, he crept under the deck and awaited the end of the storm. This was not long in coming, and soon the stout arms of a hardy fisherman lifted Jamie's chilled and dripping form from the Scud, in which he had sailed in spite of all, and he was rowed over to the beach in time to take the same train back in which his father was returning from the city.
"An' am dat you or yer ghost, Mas'r Jamie?" exclaimed the colored coachman, as they got into the carriage at the station. "There's yer pore ma at home lookin' up an' down de ribber as white as yerself, an' Miss Marian, she am dat scared 'bout yer dat—"
"But where was she all the time?" eagerly interrupted the boy, as his father took the reins from Pomp, and started the horses at their liveliest pace. "Why didn't she or somebody come out after me?"
"Why," replied Pomp, as he feasted his eyes on Jamie, sitting there in flesh and blood between himself and Mr. Trenwick, "yer see she went on dat ride wid Miss Mamie, an' dey was jist goin' to turn roun' an' come home, when de storm broke ober 'em. An' Miss Mamie's pony he am powerful 'fraid o' thunder, so dey couldn't jist do nothin' at all wid him,' cept drive into a barn 'long de road an' wait for clar weather. An' Miss Marian, she say she wur a-frettin' 'bout yer all de time, although she tink of course you had seen de storm a-comin' an' hollered to de gardener or somebody roun' dar (yer ma an' me bein' out wid de kerridge). An' when she come home an' find dat de Scud wur gone an' you in it, yer should hab seen her an' yer ma take on, like— But yer can see 'em now, tank de Lord!" added the good soul, as the team dashed up to the piazza, and Jamie sprang into his mother's arms, with Marian sobbing for joy on his damp jacket.
