No un felt like sayin' much, an'
'e 'ardly said nothin' till us gave un some tea an' loaf an' then 'e
talked. I s'pose e was sort o' faint-like. Th' first thing 'e said
was, how wonderfu' sorry 'e was o' gettin' into such a mess an' givin'
we th' trouble o' comin' out for un. Us tol' un not to think o' that;
us was glad to do it for un, an' 'e'd done it for any one o' we, many
times over if 'e 'ad th' chance;--an' so 'e would. An' then 'e
fretted about th' b'y 'e was goin' to see, it bein' too late to reach
un, an' us tol' un 'is life was worth so much more 'n th' b'y, fur 'e
could save others an' th' b'y couldn'. But 'e still fretted.
"'E 'ad ripped th' dog-harnesses an' stuffed th' oakum in th' legs o'
'is pants to keep un warm. 'E showed it to we. An' 'e cut off th' tops
o' 'is boots to keep th' draught from 'is back. 'E must 'a' worked
'ard all night. 'E said 'e droled off once or twice, but th' night
seemed wonderfu' long.
"Us took un off th' pan at about half-past seven, an' 'ad a 'ard fight
gettin' in, th' sea still runnin' 'igh. 'E said 'e was proud to see us
comin' for un, and so 'e might, for it grew wonderfu' cold in th' day
and th' sea so 'igh the pan couldn' 'a' lived outside. 'E wouldn'
stop when us got ashore, but must go right on, an' when 'e 'ad dry
clothes an' was a bit warm, us sent un to St.
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