in fate to treat her in this
way, and she would not stand it.

"If I had thought of the current," said the bishop to himself, "I would
never have let her go out alone, and she can't be trusted in that boat
another minute longer. She will do something desperate." So saying, the
bishop took off his hat and threw it on the ground. Then he unbuttoned his
coat and began to take it off, but he suddenly changed his mind. Even in
that wilderness and under these circumstances he must appear respectable,
so he buttoned his coat again, hastily took off his shoes, and, without
hesitating, walked into the water until it was above his waist, and then
calling to Margery that he was coming to her, he began to swim out into
the lake. He did not strike out immediately for the boat, but directed his
course towards the floating oar. Turning his head frequently towards
Margery, he could see that she was sitting perfectly still, watching him,
and so he kept on with a good heart.

The bishop was a powerful swimmer, but he found great difficulty in making
his way through the water, on account of the extreme tightness of his
clothes. It seemed to him that his arms and legs were bandaged in splints,
as if he had been under a surgeon's care; but still he struck out as well
as he could, and in time reached the oar. Pushing this before him to the
boat, Margery took hold of it.

"You swim splendidly," said she. "You can climb in right here."

But the bishop knew better than that, and worked his way round to the
stern, and after holding on a little while to get his breath, he managed
to clamber into the boat.

"Was the water very cold?" said she.

On his replying that it was, she said she thought so because he seemed
stiff.

"Now, Miss Dearborn," said he, "I have made the stern seat very wet, but I
don't believe you will mind that, and if you will sit here I will take the
oars and row you in."

[Illustration: "BUT THE BISHOP KNEW BETTER"]

"Oh, I think I can do that myself," said Margery. "I am rested now, and I
am ever so much obliged to you for getting my oar for me."

Under almost any circumstances the bishop could smile, and now he smiled
at the ridiculousness of the idea of Margery's rowing that boat back
against the current, and with him in it.

"Indeed," said he, "I must insist. I shall freeze to death if I don't warm
myself by exercise." So, reaching out his hand, he assisted Margery to the
stern, and seating himself in her plac