to tears. The mud
was half-way up his legs now, and his attempts to free himself seemed only
to hasten his fate. Inspiration came to Stella; in another moment she had
torn off her big over-all apron. It was strong and wide. If Paul could
reach it she might be able to pull him out by it. She threw it towards
him, but, in her anxiety, threw it to one side; she tried again, but the
breeze carried it away. The third time it reached him, and he caught it
by the tips of his fingers, but the effort to reach it dragged him
forward, and swaying, staggering, in his endeavours to steady himself he
dragged poor Stella beyond her powers of resistance, and in another moment
she was in the morass too, and, losing her balance, fell forward on her
hands and knees. Their condition now was truly appalling. Paul grew
frantic with alarm. "Pick yourself up, Stella, or crawl to the edge; you
are quite close."

"I can't," she said in an awe-stricken whisper. She was too frightened to
cry now; the fearfulness of the fate which seemed to await them partially
numbed her senses. "I can't, Paul," she said in laboured tones; "the more
I try the worse it is. I think we had better keep as still as we can.
Poor mummie," she added presently, and at the thought of her mother's
grief her tears did flow, but she kept quite still, though she saw that
her hands had disappeared entirely, and her arms were fast being sucked
down.

CHAPTER V.

THE RESCUE.

Paul and Stella never forgot, to the end of their lives, that awful time
of waiting, when they were face to face with death, their hearts filled
with agony at the sight of each other in the clutches of that fearful
morass, and at the thought of their parents' grief.

All around them stretched the great brown moor, weird and lonely looking,
except for where, less than a mile away, Paul could see the chimneys of
Moor Farm smoking, and the sunlight shining on the windows. Stella had
fallen with her back to the house, and all she could see was the moor, and
the hills in the distance. She could not see even if any one was coming
to their assistance. "Mike must have lost himself," she thought, "they
are so long--"

But at that moment Paul broke in on her thought. "They are coming," he
shouted. "Help! help! help!" and he waved his handkerchief excitedly.
Stella bowed her head and prayed, she hardly knew then in what words, but
to ask God's help, and to thank Him; she knew He would unde