But Voules only gave an occasional sigh. He seemed too weak almost to groan. Again Lord Reginald attempted to carry him towards an overhanging rock which rose at some distance beyond the beach. In this he succeeded better than at first, and after stopping two or three times he reached it. To his satisfaction, he discovered that there was a small cave, the bottom covered with dry sand. This would, at all events, afford a more comfortable resting-place than the open beach, as well as shelter from the rain, which now came on in dense showers. It was so dark, however, that he could not see his companion’s features. Seating himself by his side, he once more began to chafe his hands and breast, he then turned him on one side, when his patient threw up some of the water which he had swallowed. Thus relieved, Voules appeared to recover slightly.
“You’ll do well, I hope, my poor fellow, if you would but pluck up courage,” said Lord Reginald. “When daylight returns we shall find some food and water.”
“I fear not,” answered Voules, in a faint voice. “I am bruised all over, and I feel as if my right leg was broken.”
“I hope not,” said Lord Reginald, examining the limb. To his dismay he found that Voules was right. “We must try and set it,” he observed; “though it will prevent you being of much use for some time to come, you must not despair on that account. I earnestly hope that some of the men may have escaped to help us, though I could discover no one on the part of the beach where we were thrown.”
Voules groaned deeply. “I am much obliged to you, Oswald, for what you have done for me, but it is of no use. I almost wish that you had left me to perish in the sea, for I feel that I am dying. It is very terrible; I have all sorts of sins on my conscience. Then I think of how I encouraged you to get that young Hargrave and the older man Rudall carried off from their homes, and how they have both now probably been lost. It seems to me as if their deaths were at my door.”
“If they are at yours, they are at mine also,” said Lord Reginald. “I dislike the fellows, and though I should be thankful if any of the crew escaped, I should not like to see their faces. The chances are they would wreak their vengeance on our heads, helpless as we are, without the slightest means of defence.”
“I should be thankful to think that we had not been the cause of their deaths,” said Voules.
“Well, well, don’t talk about them, but try and get some sleep, old fellow; it will restore your strength more than anything else.”
Voules groaned. “I shall never sleep again, until the last sleep of all,” he muttered.
“Try, try,” said Lord Reginald; “I’ll sit up and keep watch.”