d. She met Sir
Thomas at the garden gate, hastening out to ascertain the meaning of the
screams which had been heard.

"Father!--a rope--a plank!" she panted breathlessly. "Oh, help!
Blanche is drowning!"

Before Clare's sentence was gasped out, Sim and Dick ran past, the one
with a plank, the other with a coil of rope, sent by Abel to the rescue.
Sir Thomas followed them at his utmost speed.

The sight which met his eyes at the pond, had it been less serious,
would have been ludicrous. Feversham still lay on the ice, grasping
Blanche, who was white and motionless; while Jack, standing in perfect
safety on the bank, was favouring the hero with sundry scraps of cheap
advice.

"Hasten!" said Feversham in a low, constrained voice, when he heard help
coming. "I am wellnigh spent."

Sir Thomas was really angry with his son. A few words of withering
scorn made that young gentleman--afraid of his father for the first
time--assist with his own courtly hands in pushing the plank across the
ice.

The relief reached those endangered just in time.

Blanche was carried home in her father's arms, and delivered to Rachel
to be nursed; while Feversham, the moment that he recognised himself to
be no longer responsible for her safety, fainted where he lay. He was
borne to the house by Sim and Dick--Master Jack following in a leisurely
manner, with his gentlemanly hands in his pockets.

When all was safely over, Sir Thomas put his hand on Jack's shoulder.
For the first time that the father could remember, the son looked
slightly abashed.

"Jack, which was the coward?"

And Jack failed to answer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

John Feversham joined the party again at supper. He looked very pale,
but otherwise maintained his usual imperturbable demeanour, though
scarcely seeming to like the expressions of admiration which were
showered upon him.

"Metrusteth, Jack," said Rachel cuttingly to her nephew, "next time thou
wilt do thy best not to mistake a hero for a coward. I should not
marvel, trow, if the child's going on yon ice were some mischievous work
of thine."

"'Twas a gallant deed, in very sooth, Master Feversham,--without you can
swim," said Lady Enville faintly. She had gone into hysterics on
hearing of the accident, and considered herself deserving of the deepest
commiseration for her sufferings. "I am thankful Blanche wear but her
camlet."

"Canst thou sw