dies. The man wildly waved his arm, and shouted to us.
The women were grasping the sides of the boat, but making no outcry. We
could not see the faces of the women plainly yet. The boat ran forward
like a race-horse; it plunged hither and thither. An oar snapped in the
rocks, and the other one shot from the man's hand. Now the boat swung
round and round, and dipped towards the hollow of a whirlpool. When we
were within a few rods of them, it appeared to rise from the water,
was hurled on a rock, and overturned. Mrs. Revel buried her face in her
hands, and Ruth gave a little groan, but she held the rudder firmly,
as we swiftly approached the forms struggling in the water. All,
fortunately, had grasped the swamped boat, and were being carried down
the stream towards us. The man was caring resolutely for himself,
but one, of the women had her arm round the other, supporting her. We
brought our skiff close to the swirling current. I called out words of
encouragement, and was preparing to jump into the water, when Roscoe
exclaimed in a husky voice: "Marmion, it is Mrs. Falchion."

Yes, it was Mrs. Falchion; but I had known that before. We heard her
words to her companion: "Justine, do not look so. Your face is like
death. It is hateful."

Then the craft veered towards the smoother water where we were. This
was my opportunity. Roscoe threw me a rope, and I plunged in and swam
towards the boat. I saw that Mrs. Falchion recognised me; but she made
no exclamation, nor did Justine Caron. Their companion, however, on the
other side of the boat, was eloquent in prayers to be rescued. I caught
the bow of the boat as it raced past me, and with all my strength swung
it towards the smoother water. I ran the rope I had brought, through
the iron ring at the bow, and was glad enough of that; for their lives
perhaps depended on being able to do it. It had been a nice calculation
of chances, but it was done. Roscoe immediately bent to the oars, I
threw an arm around Justine, and in a moment Roscoe had towed us into
safer quarters. Then he drew in the rope. As he did so, Mrs. Falchion
said: "Justine would drown so easily if one would let her."

These were her first words to me. I am sure I never can sufficiently
admire the mere courage of the woman and her presence of mind in danger.
Immediately afterwards she said--and subsequently it seemed to me
marvellous: "You are something more than the chorus to the play this
time, Dr. Marmion."