ow it was all done I have
not the remotest notion--perhaps it was mere luck--but when I came
level with the hillock I was only three feet clear of it on the near
side.

"Jump," I roared, and the man with outstretched arms jumped strongly,
and I felt a pull which almost upset me, for I had been standing in the
boat. Two hands had caught the gunwale, and the pull of dead weight
swung the heavy, clumsy craft round on a new course without, however,
upsetting it. This took us into shallower waters, and presently the
suction of the main surge got fainter and we were aground on the
moorland edge.

I had not, in the dark, seen the face of my companion at all, and,
trailing beside the boat, he had no opportunity for making himself
known. I stepped out, knee-deep, to find him also a-foot, and seeking
the land.

"Come on," I said, "whoever you may be."

"Yes," he answered; "whoever you may be, you are a friend in need."

I recognized his voice, and exclaimed, nay, shouted in my surprise,
"Jock Farquharson!"

"Yes, Ian Gordon," he said in turn. "Would you rather not have saved
me?"

"God's will be done," said I.

"Amen!" said he.

Dramas of life do end laconically, like that, as death often comes by
casual side-steps.

_XII--Raiders of the Dark_

A man does something in a natural way and it takes the world's ear and
is called heroism. Another man does a like thing, to all purpose, but
the world does not listen to it, or, anyhow, sings him no praises, all
of which we try to explain by saying "Luck."

It is natural for a man to show courage in extremes, for a woman to be
loving, self-sacrificing. Every now and then the Great Bookkeeper
records an example for the common good; and the rest are a lost legion.
We do not know why, and if we did what good would it do us, though the
curiosity for knowledge is inbred, like inability, sometimes, to use it?

News of my rescue of the Black Colonel from the flood got about, and I
was acclaimed as a hero of sorts. He, I fancy, for his own ends,
fathered a glowing account of what happened, and as it passed from
mouth to mouth it grew in glory. He meant to be grateful, and his
gratitude took that form. It was his airy way, for egotism, even when
it is not dislikeable, must ever carry its possessor into the picture.

Perhaps he also thought to please me, and thus to win a point towards
his larger ends, for I knew they would, in no wise, be modified by what
had happ