m with
clasped hands, seemed to be growing dim and indistinct, close as they
were, and as if they were receding. His arms felt like lead, and he
could hardly make his strokes, while somehow Sir Henry now embarrassed
him by being so close that he could not take hold, as it were, of the
water. But still he strove on, with the foam bubbling at his lips, then
over his lips, then to his dim eyes; and then he felt something strike
against his hand, and he clutched at a pole held out by Allstone, when
Sir Henry and he were dragged out, to lie panting for the next minute or
two upon the bank.

"You're not dead, are you, Sir Henry?" said Allstone gruffly; and Hilary
could not help, even then, feeling annoyed as he raised himself upon one
elbow, but only to give place to other thoughts as he saw Adela kneeling
there in speechless agony, holding her father's head in her lap.

Poor girl! She was white as ashes, and her beautiful hair hung long and
dishevelled about her shoulders; but just then she seemed to have no
thought of self, her whole feeling being concentrated upon the pale,
motionless face before her, from which the life seemed to have passed
away.

But after a time Sir Henry shuddered and opened his eyes, smiling
affectionately in his child's face, and, as he realised their position,
he said something to her in a low voice.

They had all been so long occupied in watching for the recovery of Sir
Henry that Hilary had had time to regain breath and some of his
strength, and now the knowledge of his own position came back to him.
He had escaped from the net, and voluntarily returned to it to save
Adela. Her he had saved, and also her father. Now it was time to save
himself, and, jumping up, he gave a hasty glance round.

"No, you don't!" said a hoarse voice. "You're my prisoner." And
Allstone seized him by his wet jacket.

Hilary was weak yet with his struggle in the water, but the dread of
being once more a prisoner gave him strength, and, striking up the arm,
he made for the bridge to cross once more for liberty; but a couple of
men coming from the other direction, having just heard the alarm, cut
off his retreat, and, exhausted as he was, he did not hesitate for an
instant, but plunged once more into the moat.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A RACE FOR LIBERTY.

It was a question of time.

Could Hilary get across the moat before the men who ran off to stop him
reached the bridge, crossed, then ran along the