o his horse's
feet, again rendered him nearly frantic. 'Let us go back!' he wildly
entreated, turning his horse; but Berenger caught his bridle, saying,
'That would be truly death. Boy, unless you would be scorned, restrain
your folly. Nothing else imperils us.'

Here, however, the guide interposed, saying that it had become too late
to pursue their course along the curve of the shore, but they must at
once cut straight across, which he had intended to avoid, because of
the greater depth of a small river that they would have to cross, which
divided further out into small channels, more easily forded. They
thus went along the chord of the arc formed by the shore, and Aime was
somewhat reassured, as the sea was at first farther off; but before long
they reached the stream, which lost itself in many little channels in
the sands, so that when the tide was out there was a perfect network of
little streams dividing low shingly or grassy isles, but at nearly high
tide, as at present, many of these islets were submerged, and the strife
between river and sea caused sudden deepenings of the water in the
channels.

The guide eagerly explained that the safest place for crossing was not
by the large sandbank furthest inland and looking firm and promising--it
was a recent shifting performance of the water's heaping up, and would
certainly sink away and bury horse the channels on either side had
shingly bottoms, and were safe.

'This way,' called Berenger, himself setting the example, and finding no
difficulty; the water did not rise above his boots, and the current was
not strong. He had reached the shingly isle when he looked round for his
companions; Humfrey and Philip were close behind him; but, in spite
of the loud '_gare_!' of the guide, Aime, or his horse,--for each was
equally senseless with alarm,--were making inwards; the horse was trying
to tread on the sandbank, which gave way like the water itself, under
its frantic struggles--there was a loud cry--a shrill, unmistakable
woman's shriek--the horse was sinking--a white face and helpless form
were being carried out on the waves, but not before Berenger had flung
himself from his horse, thrown off his cloak and sword, and dashed into
the water; and in the lapse of a few moments he struggled back to
the island, where were Philip and Humfrey, leg-deep in water: the one
received his burthen, the other helped him to land.

'On, gentlemen, not a moment to lose,' cried the guid