wing some
evidence of alarm. Perhaps he has had more than he bargained for.

John helps him in.

"Where are the others?" he cries, hoarsely.

"I am afraid, lost."

"Just Heaven! What has happened?"

"Boat sprung leak--go down fast. Soldier say he save lady, but struck
his head on boat and lose senses. I saw them no more."

It is horrible!

"Did the boat sink?" asks John, huskily.

"I do not know."

"Would it sink under such circumstances?" he asks their own boatman,
who also has the appearance of being rattled. When they entered into a
little trickery with Sir Lionel, they had no idea it would turn out so
tragically, and the possible serious consequences now staring them in
the face make them uneasy.

"No; it could not," returns that worthy.

"Then, if floating still, we must find it. Our only chance lies there."

Fortunately John is, in a measure, self-possessed. He at least shows
himself equal to the emergency.

They pull in the direction where it is most likely they will find what
they seek.

John twists his neck as he rows, and endeavors to scan the sea around
them. Again and again he calls out, hoping in the fullness of his heart
that some answering cry may come back.

What leaden seconds those are--never can they forget them.

"I see something!" says Aunt Gwen, who is crouching in the bow,
regardless of the spray that now and then spatters her.

"Where away?" demands John, eagerly.

"Straight ahead."

They pull with fierce energy.

"Can you make it out?"

"It's the swamped boat," replies Aunt Gwen, who has remarkable eyes for
one of her age.

John shouts again.

"Boat ahoy!"

This time an answer comes back, but not in the roar of the British lion.

"Here--come quickly--I am nearly worn-out!"

John's heart gives a great bound.

"Thank Heaven! It is Lady Ruth!" he says.

CHAPTER XI.

AN UNWELCOME PASSENGER.

John can hold back no longer, but gives his oar to the boatman, and
seeks the bow in place of Aunt Gwen, who allows him the privilege.

They are now almost upon the floating swamped boat.

"Careful now. Don't run into the wreck. I see her," and with the last
words, John, who has kicked off his shoes in almost a second of time,
throws coat and vest down in the boat and leaps overboard.

His hands seize upon the gunwale of the nearly submerged boat, over
which each wave breaks. He pulls himself along, and thus reaches Lady
Ruth whom he finds holding on to one o