Ernest Bracebridge: School Days - William Henry Giles Kingston

With words to give confidence and encouragement, Ernest tried to calm poor Arden’s fears; yet he himself turned many an anxious glance towards the yacht.

The instant Ellis had heard Arden’s cry and saw Ernest in the water, he leaped up and hauled the punt, towing astern, up alongside.

“Wait, sir, wait till we are about,” said Hobbs; “you’ll be nearer to them then, and on the same side they are.”

Ellis saw this, and as the cutter came round he jumped into the punt and shoved off. Ernest saw his friend coming. He began to feel more anxious than before. The punt was small, and he was afraid, should Arden struggle, she also might be capsized. He therefore urged Arden to remain perfectly quiet, while Ellis hauled him in. The moment Ellis reached them he threw in his oars, and wisely leaning over the bows, caught hold of Arden’s collar and lifted him partly out of the water, while Ernest swam round to the stern and climbed in over it. He now was able to come to Ellis’s assistance, and together they hauled in poor Arden, more frightened than hurt, over the bows. They soon made him safe in the little cabin of the cutter, with his clothes stripped off, and he himself wrapped up in a blanket. The clothes quickly dried in the warm sun and air, and he was able to be the first to describe his accident to his parents, and to speak of Ernest’s gallant conduct in saving him.

“My dear Arden,” replied Ernest, when the former was overwhelming him with thanks, “I learned to swim, and know how to retain my presence of mind. Had you been able, you would have done the same for me; so say no more about it.”

Young Arden did not say much more about it, nor did Mr Arden to Ernest himself; but he had powerful friends in India, and when, after some months Bracebridge arrived there, he found himself cordially welcomed, and placed in a position where he had full scope for the exercise of his talents.

For some time Ernest Bracebridge had not heard from any of his old schoolfellows. War was raging. His regiment, with others, was appointed to attack a stronghold of the enemy. He led on his men with a gallantry for which he had been ever conspicuous, but they met with a terrific opposition. Almost in vain they struggled on. Again and again they were beaten back, and as often encouraged by their brave leader, they charged the foe. At length he fell. His men rallied round him to carry him off, when there was a loud cheer—a fresh regiment was coming to their support. Ernest looked up. They were Queen’s troops. He saw the face of the officer who led them, as, waving his sword, he dashed by. Ernest shouted, “Ellis—Ellis!” The enemy could not stand the shock of the British bayonets. They fled in confusion. Ernest heard the cry, “They run—they run.” Then he sunk, exhausted from loss of blood.

At length the blood was stanched, a cordial was poured down his throat, and looking up, he saw the countenance of his old friend Edward Ellis bending anxiously over him. Ellis bore him to his tent, and nursed him with the care of a brother. Together in many a hard-fought fight they served their country, and often talked of their old schoolfellows, of the kind Doctor, and of the happy days they spent at Grafton Hall.