."

"What did you say?" she asked.

"It is high time we were out of here," he answered, turning his back
to the pressure of water, which was very great in that place.

"What will happen if there are two channels, and we have pitched on a
bank in the middle?"

"I must walk about a bit until I find the right track. The Wye is not
very deep at this point. It must shelve rapidly in one direction or
the other."

"But it mayn't."

"In that event I shall lower you into the water, ask you to hold tight
to my coat collar with both hands, and let me swim. It is only a few
yards."

"But I can swim, too."

"Not in a long dress.... Ah, here we are. I thought so."

In a couple of strides the water was below his knees. Soon he was
standing on a pebbly beach at the nose of the promontory formed by
the bend where the accident had happened. In order to lower Cynthia
to the ground without bringing her muslin flounces in contact with
his dripping clothes he had to stoop somewhat. Her hair brushed his
forehead, his eyes, his lips, as he lifted her down. His hands rested
for an instant on the warm softness of her neck and shoulders. His
heart leaped in a mad riot of joy at the belief that she would have
uttered no protest if he had drawn her nearer instead of setting her
decorously on her feet. He dared not look at her, but turned and gazed
at the river.

"Thank God, that is over!" he said.

Cynthia heard something in his voice then that was absent when they
were both in peril of being swept away by the silent rush of the black
stream.

"Quite an adventure," she sighed, stooping to feel the hem of her
frock.

"You are not wet?" he asked, after a pause.

"Not a thread. The water barely touched my feet. How prompt you were!
I suppose men who fight have often to decide quickly like that....
What caused it? A whole seam was torn open."

"It cannot be a stake. Such a thing would not be permitted to exist in
this river.... A snag probably. Some old tree stump undermined by
last month's heavy rain."

"What of the boat? Is it lost?"

"No. It will be found easily enough in the morning. The damage is
trifling. How splendid you were!"

"Please don't. I haven't said a word to you, and I don't mean to."

"But----"

"Well, say it, if you must."

"I am not going to compliment you in the ordinary terms. Just
this--nature intended you to be a soldier's bride, Miss Vanrenen."

"Nature, being feminine, may promise that which she