f the boat floated within view of the little fellow, and he
sprang towards it. A splash in the water told the rest--but even before
that was heard, Philip Oswald had dashed off his boots and coat, and
the poor child had scarcely touched the waves when he was beside it, and
held it encircled in his arm.

"Oh, Mary! Mr. Oswald! Mr. Oswald!" cried one of Mary's young
acquaintances, rushing into the cabin with a face blanched with terror.

"What of him?" questioned Mary, starting eagerly forward.

"He is in the water. Oh, Mary! he will be drowned."

Mary did not utter a sound, yet she felt in that moment, for the first
time, how important to her was Philip Oswald's life. Tottering towards
the door, she leaned against it for a moment while all around grew dark,
and strange sounds were buzzing in her ears. The next instant she sank
into a chair and lost her terrors in unconsciousness. The same young
lady who had played the alarmist to her, as she saw the paleness of
death settle on Mary's face and her eyes close, ran again upon the deck,
exclaiming, "Mary Grayson is fainting,--pray come to Mary Grayson."

Philip Oswald was already on deck, dripping indeed, but unharmed and
looking nobler than ever, as he held the recovered child in his arms. As
that cry, "Mary Grayson is fainting," reached his ears, he threw the
infant to a bystander, and hastened to the cabin followed by Mrs.
Oswald.

"What has caused this?" cried Mrs. Oswald, as she saw Mary still
insensible, supported on the bosom of her invalid friend.

"Miss Ladson's precipitation," said the invalid, looking not very
pleasantly on that young lady; "she told her Mr. Oswald was drowning."

"Well, I am sure I thought he was drowning."

"If he had been, it would have been a pity to give such information so
abruptly," said Mrs. Oswald, as she took off Mary's bonnet, and loosened
the scarf which was tied around her neck.

"I am sure," exclaimed Miss Ladson, anxious only to secure herself from
blame,--"I am sure I did not suppose Mary would faint; for when her
uncle's horse threw him, and every body thought he was killed, instead
of fainting she ran out in the street, and did for him more than any
body else could do. I am sure I could not think she would care more for
Mr. Oswald's danger than for her own uncle's."

No one replied to this insinuation; but that Philip Oswald heard it,
might have been surmised from the sudden flush that rose to his temples,
and from hi