The Richest Heart

Chapter 49

Julian clung feebly to the rope as Shawn hoisted him out of the water. When his rescuer finally pulled him out, he was too weak to stand and in too much pain to utter a word of thanks. With a moan he sank down onto the ground. Shawn looked at him worriedly as he untied the rope from around the boy.

Still waiting in the cold well water, Peter hung onto the rocky wall until he finally felt the rope drop beside him. Then, he did his best to tie the cordage around his waist and felt his friend lifting him higher and higher.

"Are you hurt?" Shawn asked, pulling him away from the gaping mouth of the well. Peter shook his head. As he felt firm ground beneath his feet a feeling of relief washed over him for an instant, but it was stolen away as he caught sight of Julian. The boy lay whimpering, and his face looked as white as ash.

Shawn dropped to his knees beside him and grabbed the lantern which he had set on the ground.

"What happened, Peter?" he asked. Peter did his best to explain, speaking behind chattering teeth as the wind began to chill him. Listening carefully, Shawn shined the light onto Julian's face and looked at the dark wound on his forehead. A stream of blood was still trickling from his brow.

Peter watched in growing fear. He heard Shawn whisper a few questions to the boy and then Julian mumbled an answer that seemed to satisfy him. At last, he lifted the heavy boy into his arms and rose to his feet with a struggle. Julian gave a cry of agony as he was moved. The pain made him feel very faint and in a second, he slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness.

"Grab the lantern, Peter," Shawn said quietly. Peter obeyed and hurried to follow his friend. The man walked at a brisk pace, almost running as he headed toward the tool shed. Inside, he laid Julian down on the bed carefully and unbuttoned the boy's dripping shirt.

Peter did the best he could to be helpful. He felt a sense of panic every time he looked at Julian's colorless face. The boy was breathing so softly and he moved so little that it looked like he was lying at death's door. Tired and cold, all Peter wanted to do was get home and tumble into bed. But, his fear for Julian's life gave him just enough energy to keep going.

Working quickly, Peter gathered some dry tinder and some firewood from outside. His icy hands trembled as he pulled out his flint and steel. His first, few, clumsy strikes didn't make a spark at all. But at last, he got one shining ember to fall onto a bundle of dry grass and he blew it into life. Nursing the small flame, he finally placed the blazing grass into the old stove and built a roaring fire.

It sent a wonderful, drying heat spreading through the room.

All that time, Shawn had been busy. He had wrapped Julian in as many warm blankets and furs as he could find. Now, he cradled the boys head in the crook of his arm and pressed his own handkerchief over Julian's wound. It seemed like the bleeding would never stop. In a few more seconds, Julian opened his eyes and glanced around in confusion. Everything in his thoughts seemed foggy. For a while, he tried to remember where he was and what had happened to make his body ache so badly. Then, in flashing memories, he recalled the awful fall and his struggle in the water. At last his fear-filled eyes looked up at his rescuer. Shawn gave him a kind and pitying smile.

"Don't worry," the man whispered. "You'll be alright." Julian felt far from being alright. His head was throbbing and dizzy. Despite the heap of furs he was lying beneath, he was still shivering.

"I'm so cold," he mumbled. "I just wanna go home." Shawn nodded in understanding, but the task of taking Julian home was easier said than done. He had no idea where he lived, and even carrying the hefty lad to one of the neighboring houses would be a long and miserable journey.