ould take hold of the
raft, but she seemed not to have the power to do so.

"Sim, mind what you are about now!" I called to my help.

"I will, Buck! What shall I do?" stuttered he.

"Lie down on the platform so that you can reach the girl."

He obeyed, and held out his great paws towards my helpless burden. I
raised her up a little, and he grasped her under the arms. He was as
strong as an ox; and raising her a little way, he turned over, and then
lifted her clear from the water, but dragging her up as roughly as
though she had been a log of wood. I needed no help myself, and was on
the raft almost as soon as the girl. She was utterly exhausted, and
unable to hold up her head. Sim and I carried her into the house. We
laid her in Sim's bunk, and Flora was as tender with her as though she
had been a baby.

"Hookie!" exclaimed Sim, staring at the sufferer, with his mouth open
wide enough to take in a canal boat. "Is she dead?"

"No--not dead!" replied Flora, as she lifted the wet locks from her
face, and gently rubbed her temples. "What shall we do for her,
Buckland?"

"She is chilled with the cold, and worn out with fear and exertion."

"I shall be better soon," said the girl, faintly. "I feel better now.
Let me rest a moment."

"Give her some hot tea," suggested Flora.

The tea-pot was on the stove, and I prepared a cup of tea for her. She
drank it, and the effect was good.

"I feel better; but I am so cold!" said she.

Flora and I consulted what it was best to do, and we finally decided
that her wet clothing must be removed. I carried her into my sister's
room, and laid her on a blanket. I then closed up the shutters of the
outer room, replenished the fire, and left Flora to do the rest. The
stove would heat the house as hot as an oven when the windows and doors
were closed.

Sim was now at the steering oar, where I joined him. Except the
fragments of the wreck which floated on the river, there was no vestige
of the terrible calamity in sight.

"Do you think she will die?" asked Sim, looking as anxious as though the
girl had been one of our own party.

"No; she is better now. She will be all right in a day or two."

"Who is she?" asked he, opening his mouth and his eyes to express his
wonder.

"I don't know--how should I?"

"Didn't she tell you?"

"No--she isn't able to talk much yet. She hasn't said ten words."

"Didn't she tell you who she was?"

Sim asked silly questions, and I had not alw