"For Dick's sake; because he promised for them to Madame Giche," she kept whispering to herself, trying not to shudder when the spray from the rising waters dashed over them. Dick was right; the tide would wash the ledge presently, it was doing its best to reach it now. How boldly the fisherman made the descent! It was as nothing to him, Dick thought, peering over. He was standing among the little prisoners. "These first, please," said Jenny, nodding at her two charges, "because they were given into our care, and they are the youngest." "All right, missie," returned the man, and, taking one of them under his arm, went mounting up like a big fly or a spider. Hurrah! one was safe, and back he went again. His comrades, with their boat, were standing off at no great distance, on the grey shadowy sea--the whole scene Dick never forgot. "How is it with Master Willett down there?" he asked of the man, as he landed with the first little girl. While down there he had bent over the lad a moment, and had examined him, so was able to report. "Well, sir, he's senseless, and his face terribly battered, but he's alive." He brought up the other little girl and Jenny, but as for Inna and Oscar-- "Better signal to our chaps out yonder to run in with the boat; 'twill be easier for the young gentleman to get him off that way," shouted the man to Dick, watching from above, and made signs to his comrades to row in with the boat. While this was being done Dick hurried away with Jenny and the twins to put Rameses into the cart, if the poor brute was to be found, and drive home without delay. "Yes, sir, quick home is the word for them, for they're wet, and cold, and frightened, poor dears!" said one of the men, who had children of his own. So they left Oscar and Inna to the boatmen's kindly care, and hurried away to look for Rameses. The dear old creature hailed them with such a prolonged braying, standing beside the cart, as if he knew they ought to be going. Dick put him in and drove home briskly, dropping the twins at the Owl's Nest, where no ill tidings had as yet found its way. But they met Dr. Willett and Mr. Barlow well on the road, with the gig and some sort of stretcher-bed, hastily made, for someone had handed on the news to the farm; therefore Dick was thankful to meet the two doctors, as he could direct them to the spot where the boat was likely to land. Poor, poor Oscar! he moaned sadly when the boatmen moved him; he was alive to pain, if to naught besides. "Softly! softly!" so they whispered, handling him as if he had been a baby; but Inna's heart ached, hearing him groan and moan, as she stepped into the boat, and nestled beside him, and more, taking his head in her lap; and so they moved off over the darkening seas.