and he said:

"But take me to Gregory."

If we hadn't been so perfectly bursting with thankfulness and so
tired of shouting and the cold and the whole hideous place, we
should have wondered how on earth he knew Greg's name, because
neither of us had mentioned it. But we didn't think of it then, and
just snatched his hands and pulled him over the rocks, trying to
tell him a little how glad we were to see him.

When he saw Greg, his face grew quite different--very sorry, and not
twinkly at all and he went down on his knees (he couldn't have stood
up in the back of the cave) and he said:

"Poor old man!" And then, "I wonder who had the worst night of it?"

We said, "Greg, of course." But our man said, "I wonder." Then he
changed again, and instead of being all sorry and gentle, he got
quite commanding and very quick.

"Chris, you stay here," he said. "Gerald, come with me,--and here,
put this on."

He pulled off his gray flannel coat and tossed it to Jerry, and
Jerry did put it on and ran after him, tucking up the sleeves. I saw
them get into the dinghy and row back to the boat, and I said:

"Oh, Gregs, we're going home, we're going home!" and we both cried a
little.