So Dick sat beside the bed on which his friend lay, and wondered what was happening on the beach. After a time Jim stirred uneasily, opened his eyes, and recognized his chum. "Dick!" he whispered faintly. "Don’t try to talk, old chap. It’s all right. Go to sleep." There was an uneasy look in Jim’s eyes, and his forehead puckered up as if he were in thought. Then he said in a whisper, "Did I save him?" Jim had asked a question difficult to answer, but his chum thought it best to soothe him. "Yes," said he; "you kept him afloat till the boat came up. Now go to sleep—there’s a good chap—or I shan’t be allowed to stay with you." Jim’s lips moved as if in speech, but no words passed them, and in a short time he was fast asleep, with a peaceful smile on his face. Meantime, news of the accident had reached Mrs. Hartland, who, getting a neighbour to stay with Susie, hurried to the hotel, where she was permitted to go into the boy’s room to satisfy herself that he was really alive. "I’m going to stay with him," said Dick, following her to the door, "and the doctor says there’s no need at all to worry. Does Susie know?" "Yes; I couldn’t keep it from her. How did it happen?" Dick told the story briefly, and then, promising to bring Jim home in the morning, he returned to the room. An hour later the doctor came to have another look at his patient, who was still sleeping nicely. "Hum!" said he, rubbing his hands, "one’s better than none, though it is a pity the other slipped past us." "Is Braithwaite dead, sir?" asked Dick, sinking his voice to a whisper lest Jim should hear him. "Yes, my boy, I’m sorry to say he is. We’ve tried hard to restore breathing, but it’s no good. How came he to get into the water?" Dick told him. "And this lad jumped in to save him? Well, that was very plucky, but none of you had any business there at all." "No, sir," replied Dick humbly, "but I only thought to have a joke." "Well, well, I don’t suppose you’re more to blame than the rest!" exclaimed the doctor; and then, after making a note of Jim’s name and address, he said he would call at his house in a day or two. That was a wretched night for Dick. The kind-hearted landlady brought him in a good supper, and a servant made him a comfortable bed on the floor, but he could not sleep. "Poor old Dandy!" he murmured again and again, "but for me he would be alive now." Early in the morning Jim wakened, and in an instant Dick was by his side. "Feel better, old boy?" he asked. "Yes, I’m all right. Where’s Braithwaite? What’s the matter? Why are you looking like that? Is he—_dead_?" "Yes," said Dick, and no one would have known it was the Angel speaking. "Then I’ve killed him! He only went because I called him a coward." "’Twas as much my fault as yours," said Dick. "I started it. Poor old Dandy!"