Two men clung to the upturned boat; but the other must swim, holding up his son, who, though a big boy of fourteen, was helpless in the water.

And I saw that it was like to go hard with both of them, for the current bore them away from shore and boat alike.
So I rode in, and my horse swam well, and we reached them in time, so that I took the boy by his long hair and raised him above the water, while the man, his father, swam beside us, and we got safely back to the beach, they exhausted enough but safe, and I pleased that my good horse did so well.
But the man would have it that I and not the horse saved his son, and was most grateful, bidding me command him in anything all his life long, even to life itself, saying that he owed me both his own and the boy's.
And that made me fain to laugh it away, being uneasy at his praise, which seemed overmuch.

However, as we rode home, my father said I had made a friend for life, and that one never knew when such would be wanted.
Now this man was a franklin, and by no means a poor one, so now at last I remembered my father's words, and knew that I was glad to have one friend whom I knew well enough would not turn away from me, for I had seen him many times since, and liked him well.
I would go to him, tell him all--if he had not yet heard it, which was possible--and so ask him to lend me a few silver pieces in my need.

I knew he would welcome the chance of showing the honesty of his words, and might well afford it.

Thus would I go, after dark lest I should be seen and he blamed, and so make onward with a lighter heart and freer hand.
So I waited a little longer in the safe recesses of the deep combe until a great gray cloud covered all the tops of the hills above me, and I thought it well to cross the open under its shelter to Holford Coombe, which I did.
There I loitered again, hearing the stags belling at times across the hollows to one another, but hardly wishful to meet with them in their anger.