nceal his figure from a
flock of ducks that were bathing and diving in an open place of deep
water, to which the ice had not extended.

The gliding brush heap, by slow and flitting advances, had progressed
about to within gunshot of the scarce suspecting fowls, and Perry and
the negro, from different sides of the cove, watched with the keenest
interest--when suddenly, with very little noise, the ice gave way and
Judge Whaley had sunk in deep water, loaded down with heavy gunning
boots, shot-belt, overcoat and gun. The negro stood paralyzed a
minute and then fell upon his knees, unknowing what to do. A sense of
joy started in Perry Whaley's breast as strong as his apprehensive
fears. He might be made the instrument of saving that beloved life,
and dissipating the spell of its indifference!

Nothing but this ardent passion saved Perry himself from drowning. He
had crossed the cove ere yet the impulse of parental recognition had
taken form, and throwing a rein from the carriage around the negro
man's armpits, and seizing a long fence-rail, ran rapidly across,
pulling both toward the point of danger.

Judge Whaley had been a powerful man and an accomplished sportsman;
and still as resolute as in youth, struggled with all intelligence for
his life. He sank to the bottom on first breaking through the ice,
then reaching upward made two or three powerful efforts to catch the
rim of the ice-field and sank again in each endeavor, weighted down
with leather and iron. He had sunk to rise no more when Perry reached
the edge of the field, placed the end of the rail over the abyss and
planted the negro's weight upon it, and then he dived, head foremost,
into the freezing salt depths--where the tide was running--and with
the carriage rein looped in his right hand. Before he could lay hand
upon his father, that desperate man had seized him by the hair and
drawn his head to the bottom, and every instant Perry felt that his
remainder of breath was almost run unless he could break that iron
hold. Even in that instant of agony, with death painting its awful
pageantry on his interior sight, Perry felt a gladder kind of destiny;
that perhaps the arms of a father's love were around him, and in
another sphere, already about to dawn, the shadow might depart from
that kind face and unyearning heart.

But with a sense of more human dutifulness, Perry recalled his
residuum of perception. It was necessary to break that drowning man's
grapple up