find to his dismay that beyond it the
fields were covered and that a great deal of the woodland was under
water, too. As for the path at the side of the mill, it was only dry
for some twenty yards, and then ended in a dark-looking lake.

It was impossible to go by there, and he turned back toward the bridge,
glancing up at the back of the mill as he reached it to see if he was
observed.

But not a soul was stirring, for the simple reason that it had been
closed just before; and he sighed as he thought of the pleasant days he
had spent there, seated upon the weir, gazing down at the bar-sided
perch playing about and shrimp-seeking in the weeds of the piles, and at
the great fat barbel wallowing in the gravelly holes where the stream
ran swiftest.

Happy days gone for ever, he thought, as he stepped out once more on the
bank path, towards whose surface the tide was rapidly climbing up. He
was making for the bridge once more, when his ears were thrilled by a
faint, hoarse cry; and, as he looked in its direction, it was to see a
white face, level with the muddy water, gliding rapidly down behind the
saturated fleecy coat of a drowned sheep, which was evidently keeping
the unfortunate up.

It was a boy, by the smooth face--probably a shepherd lad, swept in
while endeavouring to preserve his charge--only Richard did not think of
that. His own troubles were forgotten, his best instincts aroused, in
the desire to save the drowning lad.

He saw at a glance how short a distance the helpless boy was from the
bank, and that an eddy was setting him in so near that, if he went close
down to the rushing water, he might be able to reach out and seize the
fleece of the sheep as they passed.

In a few seconds Richard was down, knee-deep in water, holding on with
his left hand to the reedy growth of the bank and reaching out to snatch
at the sheep.

Vain attempt.

The dead animal did not come within five yards, but, after curving in,
literally shot out again towards the middle of the river and was borne
down, the boy uttering a despairing wail as he saw his help fade away.

At the same moment Richard Frayne felt the mud giving beneath his feet,
and he had hard work to struggle out on to firm land. And then there
was another despairing cry for help, so faint and yet so penetrating to
the cowardly fugitive's heart that he turned, forgot everything but the
fact that a brother was dying before his eyes, and took one brave plung