This settled the question. “There, lie down at the bottom, and we will cover you up with our jackets,” said Philip. “Give way, Harry.”
To paddle back in the teeth of the freezing wind was no easy work, and more than once Philip wished that, for his friend’s sake, he had gone on to his clearing; still, he guessed rightly, that every means to prevent injurious effects would be got ready. Manfully they paddled on, but the spray from the small but quick-coming waves dashed in their faces, and the slightest cessation of exertion allowed the light canoe to be blown back again like a feather before the breeze. Nobly they persevered. Once under the lee of the land, they knew that their progress would be more rapid. At last they caught sight of their own landing-place. Philip gave a flourish with his paddle, and pointed to the bottom of the canoe. The communication was understood, and a door, with blankets, were ready to carry D’Arcy up to the house. He begged, however, to be allowed to walk up, declaring that he was well able to do so, though he did not object to having a couple of blankets thrown over his shoulders. He found, however, that he had miscalculated his strength, and without help he could scarcely move. The next morning the effects of the wetting and exposure were more conspicuous, and all the skill of Nurse Summers was required to bring him round. For several days he was kept in bed, and even when he was able to get up, the Ashtons would not let him leave them. “You are utterly unfit for work, my dear fellow,” said Philip. “You will get well here much faster than sitting over the fire in your own shanty, and leave Terry more at liberty to go on with your house. He is contented enough now he knows we have you in safe keeping.”
It was wonderful with what equanimity Mr D’Arcy consented to remain the guest of the Ashtons. He was not idle, for he read while the ladies worked, taught Charley to net, and took Philip’s place as his schoolmaster in the evening, and imparted a large stock of backwoodsman’s lore to all the family. Philip and Harry had, directly they returned after rescuing him, set off in their big boat, and arrived at his clearing in time to prevent poor Terry from going out of his mind, which he was nearly doing at seeing his master’s boat drift by, and believing he was lost. They found him wringing his hands, and uttering a truly Irish lament as he contemplated the boat which had driven on shore a short distance from the cottage shanty. So occupied had he been in watching the upset boat that he had not observed their approach.
“Och! sad’s the day; and I’ll never more be after seeing him again, the dear young masther, barrin’ it’s his corpse is sent up by the cruel waves on the shore, and I’ll be left all alone in this desart counthry to bury him, the last hope of the D’Arcys, instead of in the tomb of his ancestors in ould Ireland. And what’ll the poor misthress be doing when she hears the news? sorrow a bit could my hand write the words; I couldn’t do it even if I had the ’art, nor my tongue tell it, I’d sooner cut it out of my mouth; and sweet Misthress Katharine and Misthress Lily, they’ll cry their pretty eyes out, they will.” Again he set up a long, melancholy howl, not unlike that of a dog baying at the moon. The sound of the Ashtons’ boat touching the shore made him look up, with an expression of hope in his countenance, as if he expected to see his master, but it suddenly changed to one of still greater sorrow when he discovered that he was not of the party.
Philip, eager to soothe his anxiety, shouted out, as he stepped on shore, “Come up, Terry, we have him all safe on shore, only rather wet and cold.”
“Is it the thruth ye are spaking, Masther Philip? Arrah, an’ I’m shure it is,” cried Terry, rushing towards him with frantic gestures of delight. “Just say that word again, he’s safe, an’ blessins on yer honest face, for I’m shure ye could not desave a poor gossoon like myself.” Philip repeated his assertion, and was not a little astonished to find himself seized in Terry’s arms, and hugged till the breath was nearly out of his body. The honest fellow’s feelings then gave way in a burst of tears, which flowed while he apologised for the liberty he became conscious he had taken.
D’Arcy’s stay with his friends was prolonged over several days, and it was not till he was perfectly recovered that they would allow him to go back to his clearing. He found several subjects to ponder on when he got there.