At length Miss Ursula appeared round the corner of the headland, followed by Jan Pendered and his son Luke carrying a stretcher. While Miss Widdington administered brandy without any obvious result, the men looked at the castaway, scratched their heads, and guessed him to be a foreigner; but how he managed to be there alone with never a bit of wreckage to supply a clue surpassed their powers of imagination. In lifting him the right foot hung down through the trouser-leg, and his ankle was seen to be horribly black and swollen. Old Jan examined it carefully.
"Broken," said he.
"Oh, poor boy, that's why he's moaning so," cried the compassionate Miss Ursula.
The men grasped the handles of the stretcher.
"I'd better take him home to my old woman," said Jan Pendered thoughtfully.
"He can have my bed, father," said Luke.
Miss Widdington looked at Miss Ursula and Miss Ursula looked at Miss Widdington, and the eyes of each lady were wistful. Then Miss Widdington spoke.
"You can carry him up to the house, Pendered. We have a comfortable spare room, and Dorcas will help us to look after him."
The men obeyed, for in Trevannic Miss Widdington's gentle word was law.
II