go; but whereas _she_ had worn a print
frock, this one was clad in total black.

"Mr. Rosewarne,"--she began; but her words came to a halt, checked by a
near flash of lightning and by what it revealed.

He was in the act of rising--had risen, in fact, on one knee--when a spasm
of pain took him, and his hand went up to his breast. For a moment he
knelt so, turning on her a face of anguish; then sank and dropped in a
heap at her feet.

Quick as thought she was down on her knees beside him, and, slipping an
arm beneath his head, drew it upon her lap. While with swift fingers she
loosened his collar and neckcloth, a peal of thunder rumbled out, and the
first large raindrops fell splashing on her hand. She recalled that last
gesture of his, and with sudden inspiration searched in his breast-pocket,
found and drew out a small phial, uncorked it, and forced the liquid
between his teeth before they clenched in a second spasm. Two or three
sharp flashes followed the first. In the glare of them her eyes searched
along the river-bank, if haply help might be near; but all the anglers had
departed. Rosewarne's face stared up at her, blue as a dead man's in the
dazzling light. At first it seemed to twitch with each opening of the
heavens; but this must have been a trick of eyesight, for his head lay
quiet against her arm as she raised him a little, shielding him against
the torrential rain which now hissed down, in ten seconds drenching her to
the skin, blotting out river and meadow in a sheet of grey. It forced her
to stoop her shoulders, and, so covering him, she put out a hand and laid
it over his heart. Yes, it beat, though feebly. Once more she picked up
the phial and gave him to drink, and in a little while he stirred feebly
and found his voice.

"Rain? Is it rain?" he muttered.

"Yes; but I can spread my skirt over you. It will keep off a little.
Are you better?"

"Better? Yes, better. Let me feel the rain--it does me good."
He lay silent for a minute or so. "I shall be right again in a few
minutes. Did you find the phial?"

"Yes."

"Good girl. It was touch and go." By and by he made a movement to sit
up. "Let us get home quickly. You can throw the rod into the river.
I shan't want it again."

But she stood up, and, groping for the rod, drew the float ashore, and
untackled it, still in the hissing rain. The storm, after a brief lull,
had redoubled its rage. The darkness opened and shut as with