st saw poor Emily Goodridge in the water, I could have saved
her without any difficulty.

In this light boat I embarked at nine o'clock. The raft was ten or
twelve miles below Cairo; but the swift current would speed me on my way
with little labor at the oars. I pulled steadily, and with just power
enough to give me steerage-way; and when I reached the raft, I found I
had made the passage in little more than two hours.

"Hookie!" ejaculated Sim, with a stupid stare, as I ran the skiff up to
the raft.

"Catch the painter!" I called, throwing him the rope.

"I hain't seen no painter," he replied, staring around him, and letting
the rope run off the raft, and the skiff go adrift.

I pulled up to the raft again, and succeeded in making my deck hand
understand that he was to hold on to the rope attached to the boat.

"Where did you get that boat?"

"Catch hold, and haul it up," I replied; for I seldom found it
practicable to answer Sim's questions.

"Did you find this boat?" he asked when he had pulled it up on the
platform.

"No; how is the girl we saved?"

"Did you make this boat?"

"No; I bought it; gave ten dollars for it. How is the girl?"

"O, she's sick! Leastwise, she ain't very well, and didn't sleep much."

I did not suppose she had slept very well; for one with such a fearful
anxiety on her mind must have suffered intensely during the long night.
I hastened into the house, and found dear Flora making some tea for her
patient. I surmised that the poor child had also spent a sleepless
night, for she looked pale and ill herself, and I trembled for her
welfare, devoted and self-sacrificing as she was in the presence of the
heavy woe of her charge.

"How is Emily?" I asked.

"She is very sick, I fear," replied poor Flora, sadly, for she seemed to
make her patient's sufferings her own. "She has hardly closed her eyes
during the night."

"And you have not slept yourself, Flora."

"No, I have not. The poor girl has talked about her mother all night
long. What news do you bring, Buckland?"

"I hardly dare to speak it," I replied, in a whisper.

"It can be no worse that her fears. She is already reconciled to the
worst," added my sister, with a sympathetic tear.

"Flora," moaned Emily.

The devoted little nurse hastened to her patient. I had not the courage
to follow her, and face the torrent of woe which my news must carry to
her aching heart. Perhaps it was cowardly in me, but I could not help