But he was drowning no longer.  He was laid hold of by a strong arm, dragged in to the rocks, and there fished out by his companions.  Then Trelyon got up on the rocks and calmly looked at his dripping clothes.  “You are a nice little beast, you are!” he said to the small boy, who had swallowed a good deal of salt water, but was otherwise quite unhurt.  “How do you expect I am going home in these trousers?  Perhaps your mother’ll pay me for a new pair, eh?  And give you a jolly good thrashing for tumbling in?  Here’s half a crown for you, you young ruffian! and if I catch you on these rocks again, I’ll throw you in and let you swim for it:  see if I don’t.”

He walked up to the carriage, shaking himself, and putting on his coat as he went with great difficulty:  “Mrs. Rosewarne, I must walk back:  I can’t think of—­”

He uttered a short cry.  Wenna was lying as one dead in her mother’s arms, Mrs. Rosewarne vainly endeavoring to revive her.  He rushed down the rocks again to a pool and soaked his handkerchief in the water:  then he went hurriedly back to the carriage and put the cold handkerchief on her temples and on her face.

“Oh, Mr. Trelyon, do go away or you will get your death of cold,” Mrs. Rosewarne said.  “Leave Wenna to me.  See, there is a gentleman who will lend you his horse, and you will get to your hotel directly.”

He did not even answer her.  His own face was about as pale as that of the girl before him, and hers was that of a corpse.  But by and by strange tremors passed through her frame:  her hands tightened their grip of her mother’s arm, and with a sort of shudder she opened her eyes and fearfully looked around.  She caught sight of the young man standing there:  she scarcely seemed to recognize him for a moment.  And then, with a quick nervous action, she caught at his hand and kissed it twice, hurriedly and wildly:  then she turned to her mother, hid her face in her bosom and burst into a flood of tears.  Probably the girl scarcely knew all that had taken place, but her two companions, in silence and with a great apprehension filling their hearts, saw and recognized the story she had told.

“Mr. Trelyon,” said Mrs. Rosewarne, “you must not remain here.”

Mechanically he obeyed her.  The gentleman who had been riding along the road had dismounted, and, fearing some accident had occurred, had come forward to offer his assistance.  When he was told how matters stood, he at once gave Trelyon his horse to ride in to Penzance; and then the carriage was driven off also at a considerably less rapid pace.

That evening, Trelyon, having got into warm clothes and dined, went along to ask how Wenna was.  His heart beat hurriedly as he knocked at the door.  He had intended merely making the inquiry and coming away again, but the servant said that Mrs. Rosewarne wished to see him.

He went up stairs and found Mrs. Rosewarne alone.  These two looked at each other:  that single glance told everything.  They were both aware of the secret that had been revealed.