), fell into the water.

Frank at once ran towards the spot, taking off his coat as he
hastened along. He was a good and plucky swimmer. When he came near
the quarry, the drowning man was struggling for dear life. Frank
seized the position in a moment. He saw that it would be useless to
jump into the water, because, when once in, he would not be able to
reach the edge of the quarry, for the water's surface was quite four
feet below that of the ground. There was not a moment to lose. The
man had already gone down twice; he was coming up for the second
time. Frank took his coat in one hand, and, leaning over the edge of
the quarry at the risk of falling in himself, he caught hold of a
tuft of grass with the other hand, and awaited the drowning man's
appearance.

The farmer rose to the surface, struggling. His eyes were dilated,
his whole countenance presented a frightened and imploring
appearance.

He uttered a cry, 'twas a cry in which he poured forth all his soul;
his last and supreme appeal to heaven and earth; but one word, but
ah! what a deep prayer to one, what an earnest appeal to the other,
were centred in that word: "Help."

"Seize this, seize this," cried Frank.

The drowning man saw the dangling sleeve, his last chance of
salvation. Frantically he clutched at it. Ah! he has missed it. No,
as he was going down for the third time he threw out his arm once
more. It was a forlorn hope, but it was successful. He caught hold
of the coat with both his hands and raised himself. He found a creek
in which he placed his foot, and with Frank's manly help, was soon
extricated from his perilous position.

Mr. Rougeant was panting for breath, and exhausted, but saved from a
watery grave.

Frank bent over the man he had rescued, dried his face and took off
his boots, examining him meanwhile. Mr. Rougeant, whom we did not
describe when we first met him, was a man of medium height. He had
broad shoulders, a powerful chest, an almost square head and a
formidable nose. Under his nasal organ, there bristled a short
moustache.

When he had partly recovered his senses, he looked around him.
"Where is my saw?" he questioned, then he added: "My hat, where is
it?"

The hat, probably a leaky one, had gone to the bottom.

Frank was as much amused as he was astonished to hear him. He
replied: "I suppose they must both be given up as lost."

"It is a pity," said the prostrate man, "it was a good saw, and a
brand new one too