e trio out
of the sea, while a loud cheer greeted their deliverance.

I ordered four stout men to carry the coxswain to Gaff's cottage,
remaining behind for a few minutes in order to congratulate my young
friend on his escape and success, as well as to see that no other wrecks
had occurred in the neighbourhood. Having satisfied myself as best I
could on this latter point, I was about to proceed to the cottage when
Kenneth came forward, leading his good horse by the bridle, and offered
his disengaged arm to my niece.

Lizzie thanked him and declined, observing that, after his gallant and
successful rescue of Furby, he must himself stand in need of assistance,
or something to that effect. I cannot say what his reply was, but I
observed that she immediately afterwards took the proffered arm, and we
all walked up to the hut together.

On reaching it we met Kenneth's groom coming out, he having failed, as
has been shown, to make any impression on the Russians with his Turkish!

I found the place completely filled with men and women, the latter being
in a state of great excitement.

"Here's the agent! make way, lads! here comes Cap'n Bingley," several
voices exclaimed as I entered.

Going to the bed and seeing how matters stood with poor Furby, who had
been placed on his back, I ordered the people to leave the hut, and had
the half-drowned man turned instantly on his face. The other
half-drowned man, having recovered, was lying on a blanket before the
fire.

"Clear the room, lads," said I firmly, "the man wants fresh air; open
the window, and take these wrecked men up to the Home in town.
Everything is prepared for them there, hot coffee and beds, and a hearty
welcome. Away with you, now; carry those who can't walk."

With the assistance of Kenneth and his man the hut was soon cleared,
only a few being allowed to remain to aid me in my efforts to recover
the coxswain.

"You see," said I, as I rolled Furby gently and continuously from his
face to his side, in order to produce what I may term artificial
breathing, "it is not good to lay a half-drowned man on his back,
because his tongue will fall into his throat, and prevent the very thing
we want to bring about, namely, respiration. Go to the foot of the bed,
Kenneth, put your hands under the blankets, and chafe his legs with hot
flannel. Hold the smelling salts to his nose, Lizzie. That's it, now.
Mrs Gaff, put more hot bottles about him; see, he begins to b