[Illustration: "Will no one protect me?" wailed the lady . . .]

"Hulloa!" cried a voice on the bank above, "what be all this?"

And Peter Dearlove pushed aside the bushes and descended to the
shingle, closely followed by Paul. He was just in time, for Miss
Limpenny, with a thankful little cry, staggered and fell fainting
into his arms.

"Mercy 'pon us!" exclaimed Peter, seeing only the lady, and not at
first the cause of her distress, "'tes Miss Limpenny."

"Well, I'm jiggered!" ejaculated Paul, "so 'tes."

The Twins bent over the lady, and looked at each other in dismay.
To Mr. Fogo the tableau might have borne a ridiculous likeness to
that scene in _Cymbeline_ where Guiderius and Arviragus stoop over
the unconscious Imogen. But Mr. Fogo, as he stood neck-high in
water, was far beyond drawing any such comparison; and Peter, instead
of adjuring Miss Limpenny to fear no more the heat o' the sun,
accinged himself to the practical difficulty.

"Did 'ee iver hear tell o' what's best to be done when a leddy's took
like this?" he asked his brother.

"No," answered Paul; "Tamsin was niver took this way. But that there
little book us used to study when her had the whoopin'-cough an'
measles wud likely tell all about et; I wish 'twas here. Wait a bit.
I remembers the 'Instructions for Discoverin' th' Appariently
Drownded.' Do 'ee reckon Miss Limpenny here es 'appariently
drownded'?"

"Why, no."

"I don't think so nuther. Ef she was," added Paul regretfully,
"you'd have to be extry partic'lar not to roll her body 'pon casks.
That was a great p'int."

"'Tes a long step round to fetch that book," sighed Peter.

"An' terrable long words i' th' index when you've got et. Stop, now:
es et faintin', do 'ee think?"

"Well," answered Paul thoughtfully, "et _mou't_ be faintin'."

"'Cos, ef so, the best way es to hold the sufferer upsi-down an' dash
cold water over the face."

"That wud be takin' too much of a liberty, wudn' et, Paul?"

But at this point the blood came trickling back into Miss Limpenny's
cheeks; the eyelids fluttered, opened; she gasped a little, looked
up, and--

"Is he gone?" she asked in a weak whisper.

"Gone? Who, ma'am?"

"The monster."

"Light-headed yet," muttered Peter. But following Miss Limpenny's
stare the brothers caught sight of Mr. Fogo simultaneously, and for
the first time. Their mahogany faces grew sensibly paler.

"Well, this beats cock-fightin'!"

"Would you m