ley church.

"We've come wrong, after all!"

"Oh, good night! So we have!"

"What an absolute swindle!"

The girls were certainly not in luck that day. They had missed their
path as effectually as they had missed their train. The chimneys of
Waverley were in sight, but separated from them by a wide stream, and
unless they were prepared to wade, swim, or fly, there was no way of
reaching the village.

"There's nothing for it but to turn back!"

"Why, but that's _miles_!"

"Are you sure it's Waverley over there? Can we ask anybody?"

"No one to ask, worse luck!"

"Yes, there is! I can see some people coming along in a boat."

Rendered desperate by the emergency, Ingred struggled through the reeds
to the very edge of the river, and lifted up her voice in an agonized
cry of "Help!"

A punt was drifting slowly with the current, and its occupants, a lady
and gentleman, looked with surprise at the agitated girl who was hailing
them from the bank. The gentleman at once paddled in her direction, and,
running his little craft among the reeds, inquired what was the matter.

"Oh, please, is that Waverley over there?" asked Ingred anxiously.
"We've lost our way, and we've walked miles! Is there any bridge near?"

"That's certainly Waverley, but there's no bridge till you come to one a
mile and a half down stream."

Ingred's face was tragic. She turned to Beatrice and Verity, who had
joined her.

"It's no use! We shall have to go back!"

But the lady was whispering something to the gentleman, and he beckoned
to the girls with a smile.

"Don't run away!" he said. "Look here, we'll punt you across if you
like."

"Like!" The girls hardly knew how to express their gratitude.

"The three of you'd be too heavy a load. I think I'd better take just
one at a time. Can you manage to get in? It's rather swampy here. Give
me your hand!"

Ingred splashed ankle deep in oozy mud as she scrambled on board, but
that was a trifle compared with the relief of being ferried over the
river. Her knight-errant was neither young nor handsome, being, indeed,
rather bald and stout, but no orthodox interesting hero of fiction could
have been more welcome at the moment. She tendered her utmost thanks as
she landed, again with damage to her shoes, on the rushy bank opposite.
Their friends in need, having successfully punted over Beatrice and
Verity also, bade them a laughing good-bye, and resumed their easy
course down stream, leaving t