c hail-shower drenched the two children as they sat within the
rocking boat. For the first time in her life Irene was really slightly
frightened. Had she dared too much? Even she might not be able to get
the boat out of the current just at present; and if she did not, and
they really got among the breakers and over the cascade in the present
storm, it might be beyond her power to save Hughie. As to herself, she
was not at all afraid. She felt she could swim through anything and over
anything; but she was not certain that she could swim and support a boy
so big and strong as Hughie.
Then there rose before her vision the face of Rosamund--Rosamund's face
with its noble expression, its clear, steadfast, dark eyes--Rosamund
with her ringing voice. Oh, what influence for good she had exercised
over Irene's wild, worthless, almost terrible life, and yet she was
disobeying all her precepts now, and frightening poor Hughie almost to
death!
"I tell you what it is," she said in a husky voice; "we will both try to
get out of this current if you will make me a promise."
"It seems to me that I am spending my whole life in making promises,"
said Hughie. "But I will make any promise if that will help you now. Oh,
what a flash that was! I expect we shall both be struck by the
lightning."
"I suppose that doesn't matter. I suppose you are not afraid to die, are
you?"
"I haven't thought of it," said the boy. "People of fourteen don't think
much about dying, do they? But I don't think I'd be specially afraid. It
might be a sort of relief to poor old Em to have only one of us to
keep. But for you there is your mother and little Agnes."
"Yes; I wouldn't like to die on account of little Agnes," replied Irene
very gravely. "I love her just as though she were my own little child."
"Well, I am her brother. I suppose you ought to be pleasant to me
because I happen to be her brother, and Emily happens to be her sister,"
retorted the lad.
"That is true enough. I will tell you why I did this. I brought you out
into the current to test your courage. If I do nothing, if we both sit
still as we are now, in all probability you will be drowned; but if you
will exert yourself and help me with all your might and main, then I
will respect you as a truly courageous person, and perhaps we'll be
better friends than we have hitherto been."
"What do you want me to do? I will do anything," said the boy.
"Well, look here. I will take one oar
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