Chapter VII: A Gallant Rescue

JUMPING out of bed early next morning, Dick dressed himself in haste and went downstairs. It did not take him long to sweep the kitchen, dust it, and kindle a bright fire; and by the time that Mrs. Wilkins, Molly, and the twins put in their appearance, the table-cloth was laid and the kettle was singing cheerily.

The Wilkins's repast that morning was a poor, poor meal, and Dick did not stop long over it. Before half-past nine, he set out, gimlet in pocket, for Lord Bentford's lake.

Although he was early in getting there, he found at least two dozen skaters already arrived. It had been freezing hard all night, and the ice was in excellent condition—as smooth as a sheet of glass.

"Blest if there isn't Widow Wilkins's youngster setting up in opposition to us, Bill!" exclaimed a rough-looking idler to an equally rough-looking companion.

The two men were standing on the edge of the lake, whither they had come to earn a few shillings by putting on people's skates, an employment needing but little exertion. Turning a scowling countenance upon the child, the speaker then asked with an oath,—

"What's your charge, young professional? Penny a pair, eh? And chain the gentlefolks' attention whilst that sharp-nosed retriever of yours makes off with a rabbit from the plantation hard by."

Dick started and looked round quickly.

Not till this minute had it dawned on him that his dog had followed. Had he loitered on his way, or even glanced once behind, he must certainly have seen Stranger stealthily tracking him. But he had done neither; and now as he stared in vexation at the animal, his commonsense told him that he must take him home before Lord Bentford or his gamekeepers had a chance of seeing him.

This, however, was not to be. For no sooner had Dick determined to retrace his footsteps than a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder, and an angry voice demanded,—

"Have you had permission to bring that dog of yours here?"

"No," returned Dick, "I haven't."

It was Lord Bentford's head gamekeeper who had put the question.

"I've only this minute seen him. He must have followed me without my noticing. But I'm going to take him away at once. He hasn't done any harm.—Stranger, old man, come on."

But for once, in a way, the retriever was pleased to be disobedient. He had caught sight of a couple of Lady Bentford's collies scampering across the frozen lake, and with a bark of delight had set off to join in their play—behaviour that filled his young master's heart with dismay and humiliation.

"Let me catch the lawless brute as much as looking into one of the plantations and I'll shoot him, as sure as my name is what it is," cried the exasperated gamekeeper, turning angrily away.

Dick trembled at the threat, and set off after his wayward property. But the ice was slippery, and he fell once or twice and hurt himself badly. He had just picked himself up, when a piercing shriek rang through the air, and was followed by a woman's scream of alarm and a man's loud shout for help.

The refreshment tent was deserted, and every one made a dash for the spot whence the cries had come. Even disheartened Dick and his retriever followed.

"A rope, a rope!" some one was calling. "Bring a rope this minute. There's a child in the water, near the boathouse, where the ice has been broken for the swans. Quickly, quickly, or we shall be too late!"

"No, a ladder will be better," declared a second voice. "A long ladder and a rope." Thereupon, a third informed the crowd that it was Lord Bentford's little boy who was in peril—his only child, indeed, and the heir to all his land.

"'Tis a wonder if the kid ain't drowned, for he's tumbled in at the deepest part," was the grim remark of one of the idlers who, a couple of hours since, had jeered at little Dick. "But then Death don't make no distinctions. And it's no more for his lordship to lose his youngster than 'twould be for me to lose one of mine."

"Oh, my child! My darling! He will be drowned—I know he will!" wailed the distracted mother. "Can nothing be done to save him? Oh, he will get beneath the boathouse, and—"

"Please—please, your ladyship," gasped Dick, elbowing his way through the crowd to the place where both parents were standing, "Stranger'll do it, if you let him try. Stranger'll save the little gentleman."

"Stranger?" Lord Bentford panted. "Who is Stranger, child?"

"My dog, your lordship. Here he is. He's a first-class swimmer is our Stranger."

Then leading the retriever to the brink of the ice, Dick pointed out the spot where the child had sunk.

"Fetch him," he cried incitingly. "Fetch him, good dog, good dog!"

And needing no further bidding, Stranger plunged into the lake and kept himself afloat while he looked eagerly about him.

For several seconds there was breathless silence. The unfortunate little boy had not yet risen, and there was the chance that when he did he might come up at a spot that was completely covered by ice. Happily, however, this contingency had not to be met; for presently a dark object rose a few feet from the boathouse, and the keen-sighted dog struck out gallantly towards it. A moment later, Stranger had fastened his long white teeth into the child's kilted skirts, and set out snorting for the bank.

"Bravo! Bravo!" burst from at least a dozen lips.

Then as the dog, well-nigh exhausted, came within reach, willing hands were stretched forth to relieve him of his burden; and the snow-sweepers, making their reappearance with ropes and a long ladder, saw that their assistance was not wanted after all.

"Tell me," cried Lady Bentford, wringing her hands over the dripping form of her child, "does he still breathe?"

"Yes, he is living," came the answer.

Hearing which, Lord Bentford, almost beside himself with gratitude, turned impulsively aside to address the owner of the dog.

The long spell of misery and privation, however, coupled with the terrible excitement of the morning, had proved too great a strain for Dick Wilkins's endurance. He had borne up until the safety of Lord Bentford's son had been accomplished. He had kept his senses whilst the crowd had cheered and commended his dog; but now, he sank down with a groan upon the bank close to the boathouse, and ere his lordship reached his side consciousness left him, and he fainted.