ft, but had no suspicion of the truth. Always
he had refused to let her go out upon the river--mortally fearing it
for _her_.

Thrusting his skiff mightily forward,--often it glanced, half-whirled
by up-whelming and spreading spaces of water,--the old Loyalist's
heart was quit of his pangs, and sore only with certainty that he must
abandon one human soul to death. By the time that he could reach the
larger boat his would be too near the rapids for escape with three!

When George Winthrop saw Bedell in pursuit, he bent to his ash-blades
more strongly, and Ruth, trembling to remember her father's threats,
urged her lover to speed. They feared the pursuer only, quite
unconscious that they were in the remorseless grasp of the river. Ruth
had so often seen her father far lower down than they had yet drifted
that she did not realize the truth, and George, a stranger in the
Niagara district, was unaware of the length of the cataracts above the
Falls. He was also deceived by the stream's treacherous smoothness,
and instead of half-upward, pulled straight across, as if certainly
able to land anywhere he might touch the American shore.

Bedell looked over his shoulder often. When he distinguished a woman,
he put on more force, but slackened soon--the pull home would tax his
endurance, he reflected. In some sort it was a relief to know that
one _was_ a woman; he had been anticipating trouble with two men
equally bent on being saved. That the man would abandon himself
bravely, the Squire took as a matter of course. For a while he thought
of pulling with the woman to the American shore, more easily to be
gained from the point where the rescue must occur. But he rejected the
plan, confident he could win back, for he had sworn never to set foot
on that soil unless in war. Had it been possible to save both, he
would have been forced to disregard that vow; but the Squire knew that
it was impossible for him to reach the New York Shore with two
passengers--two would overload his boat beyond escape. Man or
woman--one must go over the Falls.

Having carefully studied landmarks for his position, Bedell turned to
look again at the doomed boat, and a well-known ribbon caught his
attention! The old man dropped his oars, confused with horror. "My
God, my God! it's Ruth!" he cried, and the whole truth came with
another look, for he had not forgotten George Winthrop.

"Your father stops, Ruth. Perhaps he is in pain," said George to the
quaki