To bind up Swinton's wounds, some of which were ugly ones, was the first
business of Grummidge, after he had hastily staunched the blood which
was flowing copiously from his own cheek. The stout seaman was well
able to play the part of amateur surgeon, being a handy fellow, and he
usually carried about with him two or three odd pieces of spun-yarn for
emergencies--also a lump of cotton-waste as a handkerchief, while the
tail of his shirt served at all times as a convenient rag.
Having finished the job he looked earnestly at the pale face and closed
eyes of his old enemy, and said--"You've bin pretty much banged about
old chap--eh?"
As the wounded man made no reply, Grummidge rose quickly, intending to
run to the settlement for help, knowing that no time should be lost. He
was hastening away when Swinton stopped him.
"Hallo! hold on!" he shouted. Grummidge turned back.
"You--you're not goin' to leave me, are you?" demanded his enemy,
somewhat sternly, "I--I shall die if you leave me here on the cold ice."
An involuntary shudder here bore testimony to the probability of his
fear being well grounded.
"Swinton," replied Grummidge, going down on one knee, the more
conveniently to grasp the unwounded hand of his foe, "you mistake my
c'rackter entirely. Though I'm not much to boast on as a man, I ain't
quite a devil. I was only goin' to run to Wagtail Bay to start some o'
the boys with a stretcher to fetch ye--an' it's my belief that there's
no time to be lost."
"Right you are, Grummidge," replied the poor man in a faint voice, "so
little time that if you leave me here the boys will only find some human
beef to carry back, an' that won't be worth the trouble."
"Don't say that, old chap," returned the other, in a low, gruff voice
which was the result of tender feeling. "Keep up heart--bless you, I'll
be back in no time."
"All right," said Swinton, with a resigned look, "go an' fetch the boys.
But I say, Grummidge, shake hands before you go, I don't want to carry
a grudge agin you into the next world if I can help it. Goodbye."
"No, no, mate, if that's to be the way of it I'll stick to 'ee. D'ye
think you could manage to git on my back?"
"I'll try."
With much heaving, and many half-suppressed groans from the one, and
"heave-ho's" from the other, Big Swinton was at last mounted on his
comrade's broad shoulders, and the two started for home. It was a long
and weary journey, for Grummidge found the road rough and the load
heavy, but before night he deposited his old enemy in a bunk in the
large room of the settlement and then himself sank fainting on the
floor--not, we need scarcely add, from the effect of sentimental
feeling, but because of prolonged severe exertion, coupled with loss of
blood.
Two days later Grummidge sat by the side of Swinton's bunk. It was
early forenoon, and they were alone--all the other men being out on
various avocations.
Blackboy, the large dog, lay asleep on the floor beside them.
Suddenly the dog jumped up, ran to the door, and began to whine
restlessly.
"Wolves about, I suppose," said Grummidge, rising and opening the door.
Blackboy bounded away in wild haste.
"H'm! he seems in a hurry. Perhaps it's a bear this time. Well, mate,
how d'ye feel now?" he added, closing the door and returning to his
seat.
"Grummidge," said the sick man, in a low voice, "I'll never git over
this. That seal have done for me. There's injury somewheres inside o'
me, I feel sure on it. But that's not what I was going to speak about.
I want to make a clean breast of it afore I goes. I've been a bad man,
Grummidge, there's no question about that in my own mind, whatever may
be in the mind of others. I had even gone the length of making up my
mind to murder _you_, the first safe chance I got, for which, and all
else I've done and thought agin ye, I ax your pardon."
"You have it" said his friend earnestly. "Thank 'ee. That's just what
I expected, Grummidge. Now what I want to know is, d'ye think God will
forgive _me_?"
The seaman was perplexed. Such a question had never been put to him
before, and he knew not what to answer. After a few moments'
consideration, he replied--
"What you say is true, Swinton. You've bin a bad lot ever since I've
know'd ye. I won't go for to deny that. As to what the Almighty will
do or won't do, how can I tell? I wish I knew more about such things
myself, for I'd like to help you, but I can't."