llow for the
current. Her eyes devoured him, and her heart sang. Plup-plup-plup-plup
said the water. The oars plashed gently. Jenny saw the blackness gliding
beside her, thick and swift. They might go down, down, down in that
black nothingness, and nobody would know of it.... The oars ground
against the edge of the dinghy--wood against wood, grumbling and echoing
upon the water. Behind everything she heard the roaring of London, and
was aware of lights, moving and stationary, high above them. How low
upon the water they were! It seemed to be on a level with the boat's
edges. And how much alone they were, moving there in the darkness while
the life of the city went on so far above. If the boat sank! Jenny
shivered, for she knew that she would be drowned. She could imagine a
white face under the river's surface, lanterns flashing, and
then--nothing. It would be all another secret happening, a mystery, the
work of a tragic instant; and Jenny Blanchard would be forgotten for
ever, as if she had never been. It was a horrid sensation to her as she
sat there, so near death.

And all the time that Jenny was mutely enduring these terrors they were
slowly nearing the yacht, which grew taller as they approached, and more
clearly outlined against the sky. The moon was beginning to catch all
the buildings and to lighten the heavens. Far above, and very pale, were
stars; but the sky was still murky, so that the river remained in
darkness. They came alongside the yacht. Keith shipped his oars, caught
hold of something which Jenny could not see; and the dinghy was borne
round, away from the yacht's side. He half rose, catching with both his
hands at an object projecting from the yacht, and hastily knotting a
rope. Jenny saw a short ladder hanging over the side, and a lantern
shining.

"There you are!" Keith cried. "Up you go! It's quite steady. Hold the
brass rail...."

After a second in which her knees were too weak to allow of her moving,
Jenny conquered her tremors, rose unsteadily in the boat, and cast
herself at the brass rail that Keith had indicated. To the hands that
had been so tightly clasped together, steeling her, the rail was
startlingly cold; but the touch of it nerved her, because it was firm.
She felt the dinghy yield as she stepped from it, and she seemed for one
instant to be hanging precariously in space above the terrifying
waters. Then she was at the top of the ladder, ready for Keith's
warning shout about the