ce of alarm. His
groping feet touched the edge of a hole, and he turned, facing the
current, tracing his way carefully until he found a passage on solid
bottom. A bit of driftwood swirled down out of the night; a
water-soaked limb, striking against him before it was even seen,
bruised one arm, and then dodged past like a wild thing, leaving a
glitter of foam behind. The sand-dunes grew darker, more distinct, the
water began to grow shallow, the bottom changing from mud to sand. He
slipped and staggered in the uncertain footing, his breath coming in
quicker gasps, yet with no cessation of effort. Once he felt the
dreaded suck about his ankles, and broke into a reckless run, splashing
straight forward, falling at the water's edge, yet not before the girl
was resting safely on the soft sand.

Strong as Hamlin was, his muscles trained by strenuous out-door life,
he lay there for a moment utterly helpless, more exhausted from the
nervous strain indeed, than the physical exertion. He had realized
fully the desperate nature of that passage, expecting every step to be
engulfed, and the reaction, the knowledge that they had actually
attained the shore safely, left him weak as a child, hardly able to
comprehend the fact. The girl was upon her feet first, alarmed and
solicitous, bending down to touch him with her hand.

"Sergeant, you are not hurt?" she questioned. "Tell me you are not
hurt?"

"Oh, no," dragging himself up the bank, yet panting as he endeavored to
speak cheerfully. "Only that was a rather hard pull, the last of it,
and I am short of breath. I shall be all right in a moment."

There was a sand-dune just beyond, and he seated himself and leaned
against it.

"I am beginning to breathe easier already," he explained. "Sit down
here, Miss McDonald. We are safe enough now in this darkness."

"You are all wet, soaking wet."

"That is nothing; the sand is warm yet from yesterday's sun, and my
clothes will dry fast enough. It is beginning to grow light in the
east."

The faces of both turned in that direction where appeared the first
twilight approach of dawn. Already were visible the dark lines of the
opposite shore, across the gleam of water, and beyond appeared the dim
outlines of the higher bluffs. The slope between river and hill,
however, remained in impenetrable darkness. The minds of both
fugitives reverted to the same scene--the wrecked stage with its dead
passengers within, its savage wa