thought
broke the spring of her magnificent energy. Feeling at last the touch of
fatigue, she steered straight for the building and climbed in, to rest,
at a lower window, without a thought of its being occupied till Ethel
moved above.

Who shall divine her thoughts as, standing there in the door, she gazed
upon her rival? Did she not recognize her as such, or was she moved by
the touch of sorrow, aftermath of the morning's bitterness, that still
lingered on the young wife's face? Events seemed to predicate the
former, but, be that as it may, the eyes which grief and despair had
heated till they flamed like small crucibles of molten gold, now cooled
to their usual soft brown; smiling, she refused the proffered blanket.

"_Ven tu! Ven tu!_" she exclaimed, beckoning. Her urgent accent and
gesture carried her meaning, and without question Ethel followed down to
a lower window.

"But the canoe?" she objected, when Andrea motioned for her to disrobe.
"It will soon be here!"

"_Canoa_?" From the one word Andrea caught her meaning. "_No hay tiempo.
Mira!_"

Leaning out, Ethel looked and shrank back, her inexperience convinced by
a single glance at the wall. She assisted the strong hands to rip away
her encumbering skirts. It took only a short half-minute, and with that
afforded time for a small femininity to come into play. Placing her own
shapely arm against Ethel's, Andrea murmured soft admiration at the
other's marvelous whiteness. But it was done in a breath. Slipping an
arm about Ethel's waist, Andrea jumped with her from the window, one
minute before the soaked walls collapsed.

If Ethel's head had remained above, she might have retained her presence
of mind, and so have made things easier for her saviour, but, not
supposing that the whole world contained a mature woman who could not
swim, Andrea loosed her as they took the water. A quick dive partially
amended the error, retrieving Ethel, but not her composure. Coming up,
half-choked, she grappled Andrea, and the two went down together. The
Tewana could easily have broken the white girl's grip and--have lost
her. Instead, she held her breath and presently brought her senseless
burden to the surface.

Of itself, the struggle was but a small thing to her strength, but
coming on top of the long swim under the shock and play of emotion, it
left her well nigh spent. Yet she struggled shoreward, battling, waging
the war of the primal creature that yields not till De