*CHAPTER VII.*
*"IT'S ALL MY FAULT"*
The port of Beauleigh has a fine harbour and splendid docks generallycrowded with shipping. To the west of the harbour lies a sandy bay,while still farther west the coast becomes rugged and dangerous. Whenthe tide is out, the rocks form a favourite playground for the boys ofthe neighbourhood, as also, at the time of our story, did the Old Fort.This is a ruined tower standing well out in the bay, and approached atlow water by a stone bridge built up from the bottom of the sea. Thewidth of this bridge is about sufficient to allow of two persons walkingabreast, and here and there pieces have been knocked off by the actionof the waves. At high tide it is covered to a height of several feet.The tower itself is so old that its origin was a matter for disputeamong many learned men. Some said it had been built as a lighthouse;others that it was a real fort; while a third party declared that itsoriginal purpose was to serve as a prison for the king's enemies. TheBeauleigh boys, without deciding on these abstruse matters, unanimouslyvoted that it was a jolly place for a good game.
Not having any business there, they found it the more attractive,especially as there was a real element of danger in playing there atdusk. The notice-board marked "Dangerous" and the warning totrespassers added spice to their enjoyment. Now and again it wasproposed by the townspeople to demolish the tower, as it no longerserved any useful purpose; but somehow nothing was done.
Despite the danger, accidents rarely happened; the last one, in fact,was beyond the memory of even the oldest inhabitant.
Before joining the ranks of the workers Jim had played many a game bothon the rocks and at the Fort, and his companions were glad to have himback.
"Here's Jim Hartland coming down with the Angel!" cried one.
Mrs. Hartland, thinking a good game would "blow the cobwebs," had urgedhim to go with Dick. He had been gloomy enough on the way down, but hebrightened up at the boys' welcome, and threw himself heartily into thegames. Whether he had done well or badly, the examination was over, andhe might as well enjoy his brief holiday.
First they had their favourite military game. For this they dividedinto two parties--one, under Dick, defending the Fort; the second, ledby Jim, trying to force an entrance. The besieged warriors performedprodigies of valour; but the enemy were too strong, and after adesperate fight succeeded in storming the outworks and putting thegarrison to the sword. Then the Angel, scorning to surrender, seized hisbattered flag, and with a shout of defiance, leaped from thebattlements, taking particular care, however, to come down where thesand was nice and soft.
After this some one proposed a game of "I spy!" among the rocks, towhich the others readily agreed.
As they were scampering along Dick cried out, "Hullo! there'sBraithwaite!--Come on, Dandy, and have a game! 'Twill do you good afterall that dry stuff at Gayton to-day!"
"All right," replied Braithwaite, who did not often join in these roughsports; "where are you going?"
"Up to the rocks. Come along; we'll give the rest a breather!" And offhe went, light of foot and heart and, I am afraid, somewhat light ofhead. Indeed it was partly owing to one of his mischievous pranks thatthe incident which I am about to relate occurred.
After playing a considerable time on the rocks, they went back acrossthe bay. It was getting dusk now, and the tide, though still somedistance out, was flowing shoreward. Some of the boys, wishing theircompanions good-night, started for home; five or six gathered at thestone bridge for a chat.
Then it was that Dick Boden made his unfortunate proposal.
"I've thought of a ripping game," said he. "See this knife? I'll hideit somewhere in the Old Fort, and you can try to find it."
"It will soon be dark," objected Braithwaite.
"Not too dark to see the knife, for a bit."
"The tide's coming in too, and you know how fast it comes in just here."
"Oh, go on, Dick!" cried Jim scornfully; "don't take any notice of him:he's always showing the white feather!"
Braithwaite flushed. "You think you're very brave, Jim Hartland," hesaid, "but you're no braver than any one else. I'm not afraid of goingto the Fort."
"Oh, not a bit!" sneered Jim; "you'd walk across to France if the seawas all dry land. Make haste, Dick; we'll come on slowly. Call outwhen you're ready."
Dick, who was now half-way across, soon disappeared in the ruin, andpresently they heard him shouting, "Come on!"
Perhaps the catastrophe might not have occurred even then; but,unfortunately, Jim, who was eager to be first, put out his hand to pushBraithwaite aside; whereupon the latter, evidently thinking this achallenge, ran forward. Jim followed with young Moon, and two othersbrought up the rear.
"Bravo, Dandy!" cried Dick, who was waiting for them. "Now then, spreadyourselves out, my amateur detectives, and search for the lost property.Well done, Dandy; you're hot on the scent. O Tommy Moon, O Tommy Moon,I'm sure you'll find it very soon."
Whether Braithwaite remembered the danger I cannot tell, but the othersforgot everything in hunting for the knife and listening to Dick'snonsense. Laughing and joking, he led them on, keeping their noses tothe grindstone, as it were, though without result.
"I don't believe he's hidden it at all!" grumbled Tom Moon at last,stretching his cramped legs.
"You young fraud!" cried Jim suddenly; "I believe the knife's in yourpocket."
"I told you 'twas a ripping game!" chuckled the Angel, preparing to run."Whoop!" And he was off like a shot.
"After him!" cried Jim. Then from those nearest the bridge came a shoutof "Make haste! Quick! quick! The water's in!"
A sudden gust of wind blew Jim's cap into the dry well of the Fort, anda considerable time passed before he could scramble out; then, for amoment, he stood helpless and amazed.
The sky was dark and overcast with black clouds scudding in from thesea; the tide had half filled the bay; the waves were washing the bridgeand increasing in violence every second. Dick and the others wereracing along the slippery path, and had by this time almost gainedsafety.
"Thank goodness they're safe!" said he. "Shall I risk it? I think not.I'll climb to the top of the tower till the tide goes down, or perhaps aboatman will take me off."
He was turning to go back when a yell from the shore attracted hisattention, and looking along the bridge again, he exclaimed, "Goodgracious! what's that fool of a Braithwaite doing? He'll be washed offfor certain.--Hi, Braithwaite, Braithwaite! come back! D'you hear?Come back! You'll be all right here in the Fort."
The boy in the middle of the pathway moved neither backward nor forward.It was poor Braithwaite, who, though far from being a coward, wasoverwhelmed by the startling suddenness of the danger. He could notswim, and the possibility of being drowned unnerved him. Instead offollowing the others, he had stopped short on the bridge, too dazed tomove, though the peril increased every moment.
Even now, with care and a little luck, he might have got safely through,but he did not try. In vain the boys on shore shouted; in vain Jimyelled from the fort; he seemed not to hear.
"He'll be drowned," groaned Jim--"he's bound to be. And," with a suddenrush of memory, "it's all my fault. If I hadn't chaffed him, he wouldhave been at home now."
Raising his voice, he once more shouted, "Braithwaite, Braithwaite, comeback; it's quite safe here!" But it appeared as if the unhappy boy hadlost all power to move.
It was not only useless, it might be fatal, to wait longer. Taking outhis pocket-knife, Jim cut the laces of his boots, slipped them off, andput them in a safe place. Then he laid his coat and waistcoat by them,muttering, "Better go light, in case of accident."
"Keep your footing, Braithwaite!" he yelled; "I'm coming."
Full of their play, the boys had not noticed the signs of the comingstorm. It was sweeping in now. The sky had darkened. Across the baythe great white sea-horses were leaping madly at the jagged rocks. Theboys on shore had disappeared, b
ut Jim knew the Angel would not deserthim.
Cautiously but swiftly he trod the path, over which the waves werebreaking with increased violence, leaping and dancing as if in glee.Suddenly a clap of thunder pealed right overhead, and for an instant thetown was lit up by a vivid illumination. Jim staggered on, barely ableto keep his footing now, for the wash of the waves reached his waist,and the path was deeply submerged. He began to fear that, encumbered byBraithwaite, he would never reach either shore or fort, but he did notquite despair.
"Keep a firm hold, Braithwaite," he cried; "I'm coming!"
From first to last the incident lasted but a short time, though to Jimit seemed a century. He thought or his mother, scarcely recovered fromher illness, and of his helpless sister; but most of all he thoughtthat, but for his folly, poor Braithwaite would not now be in danger.Again and again he said to himself, "It's all my fault."
Once more he shouted, "Keep up, Dandy!" but in reply there came apiercing cry--a cry so full of agony that Jim has never forgotten and isnever likely to forget it. That which he dreaded from the first hadhappened. Unable to preserve his footing any longer, Braithwaite hadbeen swept into the water.
Heedless of his own danger, Jim pushed on rapidly, when another screamreached him, and through the gathering dusk he caught sight for a momentof the boy's head above the waves. He was taking a terrible risk, buthe could not see him drown; so with a cheery shout he sprang into thesea, and with swift, powerful strokes swam to the aid of his drowningcompanion.
"Don't struggle, Dandy, and don't catch hold of me," he cried; but theadvice was futile. Braithwaite was sinking a second time, and notrealizing what he was doing, he clutched his rescuer tightly around thethroat.
Jim fought desperately to release himself, and at length succeeded inunlocking the clinging arms. Then, dragging the almost lifeless boy, herose to the surface, but not before swallowing a large quantity of saltwater.
By this time Braithwaite's struggles had ceased, and supporting him withone hand, Jim turned over on his back. Twice he called loudly for help,but no voice replied; on shouting a third time he fancied he heard anencouraging shout in reply.
Alone he would have felt little alarm, but this dead weight tired him.He made scanty progress, and before long felt that he must go down.Still, he never once thought of deserting Dandy; he would save him, orperish in the attempt.
The waves were rolling fiercely, his breast was sore as if beaten withheavy hammers, he gasped for breath, and the salt water poured into hisopen mouth.
"Help!" he cried, "help!" And surely that was Dicky's voice he heard inanswer.
He strained his ears to listen, and the sound came again. He recognizedthe words now--"Jim! Jim! where are you?"--and put all his remainingstrength into one last cry of despair.
Help must come quickly, or it would be too late. His strength wasfailing, his mind wandering.
"It's all my fault, Dandy," he murmured, "but I'll do my best. I'llstick to you. Look at the star! It's getting bigger and brighter.It's coming this way. Look! it's dancing up and down!" And he brokeinto loud laughter.
He had ceased swimming now, and was merely keeping himself and hissilent companion afloat, almost without knowing that he did so.