CHAPTER XIX

GEO AGAIN SURPRISES HIMSELF AND HIS FRIENDS.

It was perhaps just as well that Geo was an inexperienced well-sinker, and that he did not know the horrible danger he was in, or with what fearful rapidity a long-dry spring sometimes rises when once it has begun to move; but he shuddered with apprehension as the cold water crept up to his arm-pits, and as it touched his shoulders flesh and blood could stand no more, and he lifted up his voice and shouted with a shout that shook the frail supports above him till he trembled once more for their endurance.

It is said that a drowning man sees all his life pass in review before his mental vision, and a wave of remorse for lost opportunities and wasted days swept over him as he stood on the brink, as it were, of eternity. And all the time those ominous words of Hayes were ringing--ringing--ringing in his ears--those ears that soon would be covered with the creeping icy flood. At last! at last! After an eternity of agony the aperture was once more was once more darkened; something was coming down--quick, quicker, the rope was running out from the windlass. Thank God, it had a bucket on the end of it. Splash it went in the water, and filling, sank immediately. Geo shouted as he grasped the rope with his strong hands, twisted his legs round it below, and as they drew him up slid his half-numbed feet into the bucket.

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I don't think that any one who was present will ever forget the moments when Geo's white face appeared above the brickwork, and his dripping garments told the tale of his terrible predicament; for Geo for the moment was past speech, and there went up from the crowd such a roar of admiration and delight as Willowton had never heard before. And there was such a rush of the foremost bystanders to shake their hero by the hand that the policemen had their work cut out for them with a vengeance, for the enthusiasm had passed all bounds.

The foreman had said, "Don't make a fuss when they come up," when the other men had been drawn to the surface; for he had seen similar accidents before, and he knew that the men's nerves would not be in a state to stand much excitement. The crowd had behaved in an exemplary manner, and except for the summarily-squashed cheering of a few thoughtless boys, they had been allowed to pass quietly to the conveyances that awaited them, assisted by the parish doctor and a couple more medical men from Ipswich. But it was not to be expected or desired that they would treat Geo in the same way. Martin and Cadger managed the rope, and as he reached the surface Mr. Barlow and the vicar were there to greet him.

"You're a brave fellow, Geo," said the vicar, grasping his hand, while the farmer patted him kindly on the back.--"Now, then," he shouted, waving his hat to the crowd, "three cheers for the gallant rescuer. Hip, hip, hip, hur-rah-h!" and once more the ringing cheers rang out.

Geo began to feel shy and looked about for a chance of escape, but there was none. He found himself standing with a little group in a clear space into which the vigilant police allowed no one to intrude. Just then a diversion occurred. Over the cheers came the strident discordant sound of a motor horn, and across the common flashed a car, which pulled up sharply, and a gentleman sprang out. The police recognized him, the crowd made way, and he hurried up to the group round the well. It was the dowser. His arrival was well-timed, and among the crowd there were some who knew him before, and without much difficulty he pushed his way through to the enclosure, and in obedience to a signal from Mr Rutland the policeman allowed him to pass under the rope. He looked pale and anxious.

"Is it all right?" he shouted when the car stopped.

A welcome "Yis, yis, master," allayed his fears.

He had followed the movements of the rescuers eagerly since his daily paper had given him news of the catastrophe; but being a busy man, it was not till this morning that he had been able to get away from his work, and had left his home in Gloucestershire almost at break of dawn. Motors are not infallible, and his car had broken down at Swindon; and it being Sunday, there had been great difficulties and consequent delay in getting it repaired.

Mr Wilman's eye fell naturally on the central figure of the group, Geo Lummis.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "I was right: there _is_ water in your well!" for Geo was dripping, and the water was running off his clothes and trickling slowly away on the dry soil.

"Indeed there is sir, and more'n I cared about!" said Geo dubiously.

"I recognize you," said the dowser, smiling. "You are the young man who followed me with Mr. Barlow on the search."

"Yes, sir," said Geo quietly, and shivering as he spoke.

"You're cold, boy," said Martin. "Hev some a' th' doctor's stuff," and he handed a glass of the egg-flip to him. Geo drank it off, and wrung out his trousers.

"Can't we disperse the crowd now?" said Mr. Rutland to the constables; "I should like to get him away."

"Not yet awhile, sir," said the constable, with a knowing look. "They're taking round the hat for him, and he deserve it, that he do," he added emphatically. "Best leave 'em a few minutes, if you've no objection sir."

Mr. Rutland had no objection, but Geo himself _had_.

As a rule, Geo was, as we know, easy-going to a fault, and fell in too readily with anything and everything that his friends liked to suggest; but to his own surprise as much as that of any of the bystanders at these words, which he could not help overhearing, all his pride rose in revolt. His face flushed with sudden red, and his voice rang out with a loud and peremptory _"Stop that!"_

The men who were collecting turned and stared. They were not accustomed to refusals on occasions of this kind, and Geo's sudden bursting into notice astounded them.

"I take it very kind of you all," roared Geo, as if he had been accustomed to address a constituency, "but I'd rather you didn't give me nothin'. What I've done any on you would ha' done if I hain't a-been by, and I've liked myself wonderful all this last week, and I find I'm gettin' 'mazin' partial to work." (Cheers and laughter.) "Yes, you may laugh; there do 'pear a bit funny, I'll own, but that's the truth, and nothin' but the truth, and I--I--I mean to _work like a good 'un!_"

He ended rather lamely, but the crowd took up the cheers again, and, police or no police, half a dozen strong young fellows broke through the barrier, hoisted Geo on their shoulders, and carried him right away up the village to the tramp of many feet and the tune of "For he's a jolly good fellow," and nobody raised a protest even in the sacred cause of order.

Milly Greenacre stood at her garden gate as the stream went by; old Jimmy looked out of his bedroom window in his cotton night-cap, and cheered in his cracked old voice.

All his life long Geo will remember the dim outline of Milly's figure, white against the background of the lilac bushes, and the quaint, whimsical face of the old man peering into the darkness, and looking at him, for the first time of his life, with approval. It was only an instantaneous snapshot from the lanterns carried by some of the party that revealed the picture to him, but it was photographed for ever on his brain, and it was not one of the least among the pleasurable things Geo looked back to when all the excitement was over, and he had settled down to steady work as he said he would.