t her warning came too late. Alison, in her effort to grasp the
plantain, put her weight on her friend, and to support the strain
Dorothy leaned backwards. Alison, snatching a piece of the flower,
suddenly released the tension; the pair swayed for an instant,
overbalanced, and then slipped, shrieking, down the sloping side of the
weir.

CHAPTER XV

A Confession

The two girls sank into the pool below, then, rising to the surface,
caught with frantic fingers at a rotten willow bough that overhung the
water. Neither could swim, and in desperate plight they clung to the
frail and insecure support. Almost choked with their dipping, their hair
and clothes streaming, they still managed to call vigorously for help.
But already their weight was splitting the decayed old willow: there was
an ominous crack, a sudden rending, a piteous cry, and, still clutching
the severed branch, they went whirling down the river. Mercifully their
first wild shriek had been heard, and a farmer who lived at the old
millhouse by the weir had come running instantly from his garden. He
arrived on the scene just as the branch broke, and wading into the water
he contrived to catch Dorothy, who was the nearer, and to drag her into
safety. But when he turned to look for her companion, Alison had drifted
along with the stream, and was out of his reach. He could not swim, so
he ran back towards the inn, shouting for help. At the sound of his
cries the stable boy and several others came rushing down the field.

"Fetch a rope!"

"Where's the boat?"

"Cut a long pole!"

"She'll drown while you're doing it!"

"For Heaven's sake don't let her go down again!"

"I can only swim a few strokes, but I'll try if I can reach her,"
exclaimed the stable boy, flinging off his coat and plunging into the
river, which was shallow for a yard or so at the edge.

Venturing out of his depth, he grasped Alison by her dress, then turned,
floundering hopelessly towards the bank. For a moment it seemed as if
both lives must surely be lost, but with a desperate effort the boy
managed to keep himself afloat, and to reach the hand of one of the men
who had waded out to meet him. Between them they pulled the unconscious
girl from the water and laid her on the grass.

"She's gone!"

"No, no; I've seen worse than her as came round."

"Take 'em both into the inn and send Sam on his bike for the doctor."

The first intimation of the accident which Miss Carter rece