fainted away.
But the majority were watching the daring man who was striving after theponies, which were now about fifty yards from the pier, and instead ofswimming away, pawing the water frantically, so that the end of theaccident seemed near.
Boats were putting off from the shore, but it would be long enoughbefore they could do any good. The chances were that the end would havecome before they reached the spot, and Richard Linnell was now withinhalf a dozen yards.
"Let go," he shouted to Cora. "Try and throw yourself out this side,and I'll get you ashore."
She only turned a dazed, despairing look in his direction, too muchparalysed by the horror of her situation to even grasp his meaning.
"All right, Master Linnell, sir," growled a deep voice. "Take itcoolly, and we'll do it."
Linnell glanced aside, and saw that the swarthy fisherman who had beenshrimping was not a couple of yards behind him.
"Look ye here, sir. Let the lady be. I'll go round t'other side. Yougo this. Mind they don't kick you. Take care. Wo-ho, my pretties;wo-ho, my lads," he cried to the ponies, as, perfectly at his ease inthe water, he swam past their heads, well clear of their beating andpawing hoofs, and got to the other side.
In cases of emergency, whether the order be right or wrong, one that isgiven by a firm, cool man is generally obeyed, and it was so here, forLinnell took a stroke or two forward towards the off-side pony, leavingCora clinging to the front of the little carriage.
"Wo-ho, my beauties. Steady, boys," cried the big fisherman soothingly.
"Woa, lad, woa, then," cried Linnell, in imitation of his companion.
The ponies, the moment before snorting and plunging desperately, seemedto gather encouragement from the voices, and ceasing their franticefforts, allowed themselves to sink lower in the water, let their bitsbe seized, and with outstretched necks, and nostrils just clear of thewater, began to swim steadily and well.
"That's it, lads, steady it is!" cried the fisherman. "Lay out wellclear of 'em, Master Linnell, sir. Mind they don't kick you. I'llsteer 'em, and we shall do it. You hold on, mum; it's all right."
Cora's head and shoulders were above the water and the ponies wereswimming well now, and obeying the pressure of the fisherman's hand,though they needed little guidance now they were making steadily for theshore.
"I thought they'd do it, Master Linnell, sir. Good boys, then. Goodlads. Pity to let 'em drown," said the fisherman coolly.
"Right," cried Linnell, easing the pony on his side by swimming with onehand. "Keep still, Miss Dean. We shall soon be ashore. There's nodanger now. Yes, there is," he muttered. "Those boats."
Cora turned her eyes upon him with a frightened look, but she wasgrowing more calm, though she could not speak, and the ponies kept onsnorting loudly as they swam on.
"Keep quiet, will you, you fools!" grumbled Dick Miggles, as bursts ofcheers kept rising from the pier, answered by a gathering crowd on thebeach about where they were expected to land, while the cliff was nowlined with people who had heard of the accident on the pier.
"Here! hoy!" roared Dick Miggles, who had grasped the danger. "Wo-ho,my boys, I'm with you. It's all right."
"Ahoy!" came from the nearest boat, whose occupants were rowing with alltheir might.
"Back with you. D'ye hear! Wo-ho, lads; it's all right. Back, I say.You'll frighten the horses again."
"We're coming to help you," came from the boat.
"Go back, curse yer!" roared Dick. "Don't you see what you're doing."
The ponies were getting scared by the shouting, but by dint of pattingand soothing words, they were calmed down once more, and the boatmen, inobedience to the orders given, ceased rowing.
"Go back, and bid 'em hold their row," cried Dick, as he guided theponies. "We must get in quiet, or the horses'll go mad again."
The men rowed back, communicating their orders to the other boats, whoseoccupants rested on their oars, while, like some sea-queen, Cora wasdrawn on in her chariot towards the shore, but looking terriblyunaccustomed to the mode of procedure, as she still clung to the frontof the little carriage.
"Miggles."
"'Ullo?"
"Can you manage them alone? The lady."
"All right, Master Linnell, sir. They'll go now. We shall be ashoredirectly."
He had turned his head and seen what was wrong as Richard Linnell loosedhis hold of the pony's head, letting it swim on, though the frightenedbeast uttered a snorting neigh and tried to follow him, till itsattention was taken up by the soothing words of Dick Miggles, and itstruck out afresh for the shore.
Meanwhile Richard had caught Cora Dean as she loosened her grasp of thefront of the carriage, for he had seen that something was coming as hercountenance changed and her eyes half-closed.
It was an easy task, for he had only to check her as she was floatingout of the carriage, and take hold of the front with his right hand tolet himself be drawn ashore.
She opened her eyes again with a start, as if she were making an effortto master her emotion, and they rested on Linnell's as he held hertightly to his breast. Then she shivered and clung to him, and the nextminute the ponies' hoofs touched the shingly bottom, and people began torealise how it was that the carriage had not sunk in the deep water anddragged the ponies down.
It was plain enough. There was nothing but the slight body with itsseats, which had been torn from springs, axle-trees, and wheels, givingit more than ever the aspect of a chariot drawn by sea-horses throughthe waves.
The ponies were for making a fresh dash as soon as they felt theyielding shingle beneath their hoofs, but a dozen willing hands were attheir heads; the remains of the carriage were drawn up the beach, andthe traces were loosened and twisted up, while Cora was borne by acouple of gentlemen to one of several carriages offered to bear herhome.
As for Linnell, he was surrounded by an excited crowd of people eager toshake hands with him, but none of whom could answer his questions aboutMrs Dean.
"Mrs Dean?" said a wet, thick-set man, elbowing his way through. "Allright; sent home in Lord Carboro's donkey-carriage. Mr Linnell, sir,your hand, sir. God bless you, sir, for a brave gentleman! Nice pairof wet ones, aren't we?"
"Oh, never mind, Mr Barclay," cried Linnell, shaking hands. "I'm onlytoo thankful that we have got them safe ashore."
"With no more harm done than to give the coachbuilder a job, eh? Ha,ha!"
"Three cheers for 'em!" shouted a voice; and they were heartily given.
"And three more for Fisherman Dick!" cried Linnell.
"Don't, Master Richard, sir--please don't!" cried the swarthy fishermanmodestly.
"He did more than I did."
"No, no, Master Richard, sir," protested Dick, as the cheers wereheartily given; and then a horrible thought smote Linnell:
"The boy--Mrs Dean's little groom! Where is he?"
"Oh, I'm all right, sir," cried a shrill voice. "When I see as missuscouldn't stop the ponies, I dropped down off my seat on to the pier."
"Hurray! Well done, youngster!" cried first one and then another,
"Look here, Mr Richard," cried Barclay; "my place is nearest; comethere, and send for some dry clothes."
"No, no; I'll get back," said Linnell. "Thanks all the same. Let mepass, please;" and as Cora Dean's ponies were led off to their stable,and Barclay went towards where plump Mrs Barclay was signalling him onthe cliff, the young man hurried off homeward, followed by bursts ofcheers, and having hard work to escape from the many idlers who wereeager to shake his hand.
Volume One, Chapter XVIII.
UNREASONABLE CHILDREN.
"Claire, Claire! Quick, Claire!"
Pale and very anxious of aspect, Claire hurried down from her room, tofind her father, in his elaborate costume, standing in an attitudebefore one of the mirrors, not heeding her, so wrapped was he in histhoughts.
Her brow contracted, and she looked at him wonderingly, asking herselfwas his memory going, or was somet
hing more terrible than the loss ofmemory coming on? for he appeared to have forgotten that which was anagony to her, night and day.
Something had happened to please him, she knew, for his countenance atsuch times was easy to read; but all the same, his worn aspect waspitiable, and it was plain that beneath the mask he wore the terriblecare was working its way.
"What is it, papa?" she said, in the calm, sad way which had becomehabitual with her.
"What is it?" he cried, in his mincing, artificial style.
"Success! Assured fortune! The wretched fribbles who have
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