ome in sight again.

"Some of them seem loose," came from within; "but I can't get them out."

"Don't stop to try now," said Fred. "Let's come another time; we can't
make any mistake, now. Oh!"

The cry was involuntary, for all at once a patch of ivy just above the
level of the water seemed to be driven outward, and several stones about
the size of his head fell with a splash down among the alder roots,
followed by a heavy gush of water, which poured forth fiercely into the
woody edge of the lake, and continued to pour as if a fresh lake was
discharging its waters into the old one.

So near was the edge of the boat, that the water nearly rushed in; but
though it was afterwards slightly drawn toward it, a snatch at a bough
drew it back, and Fred stood gazing wonderingly at the rush which foamed
in.

Then he looked across the lake, wondering whether Nat could hear and
see. But he was too far distant to see more than a little ebullition
which might have been caused by the movement of the oars and boat, for
the water that poured in was discharged in quite a dense thicket of
moisture-loving growth.

"I say, Scar," cried Fred, at last, alarmed by the silence, and after
listening to the surging noise of the water for a few minutes.

"Yes."

"Are you all safe?"

"Yes, of course."

"What does all this water mean?"

"I was pushing against the wall high up, and slipped, and my knees
struck against the bottom, driving out some of the stones."

"Then--Stop a minute; Nat's going away."

The lad held some of the twigs aside, and could see that the gardener
was moving off, apparently tired of waiting, and, once he was out of
sight, there was no occasion to be so particular about shouting, and a
conversation was painfully carried on above the rushing noise of the
water.

"I can't understand it, Scar," cried Fred. "There must be a stream
running through that passage."

There was no reply; but the willow wand was withdrawn, and the next
minute it appeared through the hole where the water was rushing.

"I say, Scar."

"Yes."

"Haven't you done some harm, and oughtn't we to let them know up at the
house?"

"I don't know. I couldn't help it."

"I thought the passage was partly under the water," said Fred to
himself, "and so it ran in; but it couldn't have been meant to be wet
like that. I say, Scar," he cried aloud, "whereabouts is the bottom
where your feet are?"

"Eh?"

"I say, where are your feet?"