_ON THE ROCKS._
"WHERE'S Lionel?" was Alick's first question as he entered the
dining-room, and found he was not seated at tea with the rest.
"Is he not with you?" asked his mother, looking up. "We have seen
nothing of him."
"He was on the rocks, but I supposed he had gone home."
"He will be in presently," said Mr. Chantry. "Sit down, Alick; we have
almost finished tea."
Alick obeyed, but just as he was raising his cup to his lips, a thought
struck him, a thought which, but for his unkindness and repentance, he
would have dismissed as nonsense.
"Mother, I'll go and look after him, if you don't mind," he said,
rising.
"My boy, he has taken care of himself hundreds of times; he will be in
directly, I hope."
"But the tide is coming in fast, and he will not want to be round there
all night; I doubt if he can pass the Point now."
"Do just as you like," said Mr. Chantry; "but he may have gone the
other way."
"No, he was on the rocks, I know, for I saw him, and he had not time to
get home before I came out on the beach. What I'm afraid of is, that he
may have gone to sleep in his cave. He said something about going to
sleep."
"Well, be off then," said Mr. Chantry, "for it is getting very dusk."
Alick was gone like the wind. How bitterly he felt now the careless
words he had uttered when he had parted from his cousin, how grieved
that he had disregarded his evident loneliness.
The mile along the sands had never seemed so long before. When he
reached the Point, the waves were gurgling and washing gently between
the stones at its base. In less than an hour it would be impassable.
He plashed through the water ruthlessly, regardless of boots or clothes.
Then his eye scanned the darkening line of white sand as it stretched
before him, but no moving figure broke its expanse. He pressed on,
half-angry with himself for being anxious, and yet conscious of that
ever-deepening water at the Point, which made his own situation
disagreeable enough, if not actually dangerous.
As he neared Lionel's cave, he called his name, hoping to save time.
But while he waited for an answer, he felt he was losing more than if
he had hurried on.
None came. The sea broke and fell, and ran back and came forward again;
but no other sound struck the ear.
Alick intended, when he reached the cave, to run in and beg Lionel's
forgiveness the first thing, but what was his dismay to find it
desolate and empty. The sand, even in that dim light he could perceive,
was untrodden—had not been touched that day, at any rate.
He went outside again, a chill fear creeping over him. He ran down to
the sand near the beginning of the rocks, and there were Lionel's fresh
footprints, in single row, leading direct on to the middle of the reef.
But he could not see any returning marks.
"Lionel," he called, following them a little way, and looking round in
every direction, "Lionel, are you there?"
Was it his fancy that made a voice seem to come back with the waves, a
sort of cry of pain?
Nonsense; he had fancied heaps of times that the sea sent back such a
sound. It was only that his nerves were out of order. Still, he would
call once more.
"Lionel, are you there? Are you in any difficulty?"
Surely it was not only the sea that answered this time!
Alick and Courtenay had a particular call, which they had sometimes
been annoyed with Lionel for using. It carried sound a long way, and
was so peculiar, that no sea-music could be mistaken for it.
As Alick advanced cautiously on to the broad flat rocks which stretched
in the middle of the reef, he bethought him of this call, and now he
shouted it as loud as he could. Then he listened intently. He need not
have done so.
Somewhere from the sea, as it seemed to him—around, beneath him, from
"somewhere"—came the answer back, twice repeated, then instantly
followed by, "Help, Alick! Help!"
"Where are you?" he called, standing as if turned to stone.
He had nearly reached the limit of the reef, and the water was dashing
up in white spray against the broken rocks almost at his feet. Lionel
could be nowhere on the reef, and yet—
"Here!" again came back to him with the rushing of the waves.
"Say where, Lionel," Alick called in despair. "I cannot see you, or
even guess where you are."
"Here, to your left!" called the voice, almost beneath him.
And then he groped his way over the slippery rocks in the direction
indicated, entreating, as he made his way over and round them, "Keep on
calling, Lionel; the waves make such a roar! Am I coming near you yet?
Are you hurt?"
Lionel called again and again, adding with terrible distinctness, "Make
haste, Alick; for I'm drowning!"
At last, Alick reached the edge of the reef, and looking down in the
direction of the voice, which seemed close beneath him, he could
make out in the darkness Lionel's face and shoulders emerging from
the waves; while one arm was raised high, holding a dripping white
handkerchief.
Alick, as he stooped down hastily to try to see more clearly, breathed
one earnest prayer for help half-aloud.
"Oh, help me!" he implored. "I don't deserve it, but don't let him
perish for my fault."
"Is anyone else there?" asked Lionel. "Quick, Alick, the waves have
taken me off my feet twice."
"One 'mighty to save,'" answered Alick solemnly. "We must look to Him;
for I don't see what to do. Can't you swim round?" he asked suddenly.
"I'm hurt, or I should have done that long ago."
"I could pull you up by your hands. Raise them up, Lionel, and let your
body float out."
"I can't; this hand is useless. Be quick, Alick!"
The entreaties for haste wrung Alick's heart.
"Be patient, dear boy," he said tenderly. "We shall have time, I
believe, if we hit on the right way. If I pull you by one hand, can you
clamber up with your feet?"
"My foot's crushed, that's just it."
"Foot and hand?" Alick groaned. "What are you standing on? For I
suppose you 'are' standing."
"A large rock. Oh, Alick, here's a big wave!"
He stretched up his hand, and Alick grasped it. Only just in time; for
the wave lifted him off his feet, and would have carried him away but
for that grip of his cousin's.
"There is no time to be lost, I see," said Alick, and he began climbing
over the edge of the reef.
"It's no use," said Lionel, "you'll never do anything, we shall both
drown. Keep up there, Alick, and stay with me till the last. Give my
love to mother. I wish I'd been better—"
But Alick was already clinging with both hands to the rock, and letting
himself down cautiously into the sea close to his cousin's side.
"Guide me to the rock you're on, Lionel, if you can, and do not fear.
Remember we've got a mighty Helper."
Lionel was so nearly off his feet with the height of the water that he
had but little power to help his cousin. The stone on which he stood
was however large, and by a little guiding with his one hand, Alick
safely reached it.
"Now, dear boy, make up your mind to a hard fight for it, and plenty of
pain, but you'll be saved yet if you can be brave. Lionel—I must say
it—forgive me, if we never have time to say any more. Do you?"
"Yes, Alick," answered the boy, holding fast to Alick's taller
shoulder, and feeling half-saved already.
"Now, Lionel, I'm going to lift you up and push you on to the reef, and
you must not shrink if it hurts you. That can't be helped. Just let
yourself go. Now for it."
He bent down till his face touched the water and grasped his cousin
round the legs, and then with all his might hoisted him up and up, till
he fell forwards on to the reef, his poor maimed hand under him.
"You're safe there for a few minutes till I can get up?" asked Alick
from the darkness.
"Yes," said a faint voice. "My hand—"
"That will be better soon."
"No," said Lionel, exerting all his strength; "here's my good hand
sticking out for you to take hold of—here—"
Alick caught it, and after a good many slips and plunges on the slimy
rocks, he found foothold, and at last reached his cousin's side.
"Now, Lionel," he said, "we are not all right yet. Can you walk at all?"
"No, but if you can help me, I can hop. I was doing that when I had the
second fall down there. Alick, I'm in such awful pain."
"Where?"
"My hand and my foot, but my hand the worst."
"We have not a moment to lose. Let me help you up; these rocks will be
covered soon. Don't you remember how the end near the shore gets under
water first?"
"I know."
"Can you walk so?"
"I'll try. Alick, you get me up on to the landslip, and there I'll lie
till you can get help."
"It would be easier to get you to the Point. I doubt if I can haul you
up the cliff."
"Is the water up at the Point?"
"It was, but only just there. I think we may get round."
They were hobbling along, but at every jump Lionel groaned with pain.
And when they were safely off the reef, Alick pulled up.
"Thank God!" he said. "Now I think we may feel you will be saved."
Lionel leant against him in silence, taking long breaths, hardly able
to repress his moans.
"Alick, I shall never reach the Point like this. Every shake of mine,
every jump, wrings both my hand and foot. It's impossible. How long do
you think it will be before the tide reaches the cliff up here?"
"Why?"
"Because you might get a boat."
"It runs in very quickly after it has reached the Point. I could not be
back under an hour. No, Lionel, I must get you up on my back."
"I can't. Oh, Alick, can't you think of some other way?"
"No," answered Alick decidedly. "If we waste another moment, we may be
lost. Let me get you up. See, here is a rock. Now, Lionel, however much
it hurts you, bear it as inevitable. It would be worse to be drowned."
Lionel did as directed; he threw as much of his weight as he could
round his cousin's shoulders, clinging on with his unhurt arm.
Alick bent bravely beneath the weight, and without any further delay
beyond one or two halts for rest, actually reached the Point. There he
set his cousin down. How he did that half mile he never could explain,
but he only knew that at the end, he uttered his second "Thank God!"
which was quite as heartfelt as the first had been.
"I'm going round first, Lionel; because if I can't, you can't; that's
certain."
It was now quite dark, and Alick pushed into the water with a feeling
of uncertainty. He kept close under the cliff, and found it not so deep
as he had feared. When he went down between two rocks, it was up to his
middle, but the average depth was not much above his knees.
He knew the place so well that he felt somewhat reassured, and when he
saw they could get through turned back to his cousin.
"All right," he called. "Now, Lionel, can you help yourself a bit, or
shall I carry you?"
"I had better try to walk," he answered, "but I doubt if we shall get
over."
"Fear nothing. We cannot come to much harm if I have to carry you
again. Come along."
This was the worst bit they had had. Lionel did his best, but his
one foot got between rocks and in holes, and he plunged about sadly
distressed, feeling as if he must give up all for lost.
But Alick had no idea of giving up, and by dint of encouragement,
entreaties, and commands, he at last turned the corner of the Point,
and could see the lights at Leesworth shining over the water.
"Look, dear boy," he said cheerfully, "we shall soon be quite safe, and
then I hope your pain will be better."
Lionel clung to him.
"I'm going to faint or die or something," he said. "Alick, I'm—"
He happened to be on a rock just behind Alick at the moment. Alick
seized the opportunity and grasped his hands—hurt or not—round his
own neck, and with two or three desperate struggles and stumbles felt
his feet greeted by the firm sand beneath, and then he found himself
walking out of the water under the deep black shade of the overhanging
cliffs.
He pushed on. That his cousin was either fainting or dying he believed,
but hesitation now was disaster. He never paused till the change in the
character of what he was treading made him aware that he had reached
high-water mark. Still on he pushed, and was not satisfied till he laid
his burden down close under the cliff, where even in winter storms he
had never seen the waves come.
He placed the unconscious form as comfortably as he could, and bent
down to feel his heart. Yes, it was beating. Overjoyed at this, Alick
stayed one moment more.
"Lionel," he said softly, "can you hear me, dear boy?"
No answer.
"I am going to get help, Lionel; I shall not be long gone."
No answer.
Alick ran down to the edge of the sea, and filled his hands with water;
for hat, he had none.
It was but little that reached the fainting boy; but that little
dropping on his face revived him.
"Where am I?" he asked feebly.
"Safe, perfectly safe. I am going for something to carry you on."
"Don't leave me, Alick."
"I must. Dear Lionel, I shall not be long; you will not be afraid. You
will be home all the sooner."
"Very well. Alick, would you give me one kiss?"
"Willingly, gladly."
He stooped down and kissed him, and Lionel pressed Alick's hand to his
lips.
"Lionel, we'll never be anything but friends after this?"
"Yes," answered Lionel faintly. "Alick, you've done more for me than
save my 'body!'"
But their suspense was over. As Alick turned to go away, lights were
seen coming rapidly towards them, and several men, with Tom, the
Towers' coachman, at their head, came up in another minute, having been
sent in search of them.
Alick explained briefly what had happened, and two of the men ran back
to the fishermen's cottages for a shutter.
"Take me to Salome," murmured Lionel. "She knows best what to do for
me—as I can't go to mother."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration: "Blessed are they that mourn:
for they shall be comforted."]