Mr. Stone was swimming, slower
than man had ever swum before. His silver head and lean arms alone were
visible, parting the water feebly; suddenly he disappeared. He was but
a dozen yards from the shore; and Hilary, alarmed at not seeing him
reappear, ran in. The water was not deep. Mr. Stone, seated at
the bottom, was doing all he could to rise. Hilary took him by his
bathing-dress, raised him to the surface, and supported him towards
the land. By the time they reached the shore he could just stand on
his legs. With the assistance of a policeman, Hilary enveloped him in
garments and got him to a cab. He had regained some of his vitality, but
did not seem aware of what had happened.
"I was not in as long as usual," he mused, as they passed out into the
high road.
"Oh, I think so, sir."
Mr. Stone looked troubled.
"It is odd," he said. "I do not recollect leaving the water."
He did not speak again till he was being assisted from the cab.
"I wish to recompense the man. I have half a crown indoors."
"I will get it, sir," said Hilary.
Mr. Stone, who shivered violently now that he was on his feet, turned
his face up to the cabman.
"Nothing is nobler than the horse," he said; "take care of him."
The cabman removed his hat. "I will, sir," he answered.
Walking by himself, but closely watched by Hilary, Mr.
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