all go together; so I
had nothing for it but to halloo as loud as I could. No one heard but
Triton, the old Newfoundland dog, who presently came swimming up, so
eager to help, poor fellow, that I thought he would have throttled me,
or hurt himself in the branches. I took off my handkerchief and threw it
to him, telling him to take it to Arnaud, who I knew would understand it
as a signal of distress.'

'Did he? How long had you to wait?'

'I don't know--it seemed long enough before a most welcome boat
appeared, with some men in it, and Triton in an agony. They would never
have found me but for him, for my voice was gone; indeed the next thing
I remember was lying on the grass in the park, and Markham saying,
'Well, sir, if you do wish to throw away your life, let it be for
something better worth saving than Farmer Holt's vicious old ram!'

'In the language of the great Mr. Toots,' said Charles 'I am afraid you
got very wet.'

'Were you the worse for it?' said Amy.

'Not in the least. I was so glad to hear it was Holt's! for you must
know that I had behaved very ill to Farmer Holt. I had been very angry
at his beating our old hound, for, as he thought, worrying his sheep;
not that Dart ever did, though.

'And was the ram saved?'

'Yes, and next time I saw it, it nearly knocked me down.'

'Would you do it again?' said Philip.

'I don't know.'

'I hope you had a medal from the Humane Society,' said Charles.

'That would have been more proper for Triton.'

'Yours should have been an ovation,' said Charles, cutting the o
absurdly short, and looking at Philip.

Laura saw that the spirit of teasing was strong in Charles this morning
and suspected that he wanted to stir up what he called the deadly
feud, and she hastened to change the conversation by saying, 'You quite
impressed Guy with your translation of Fra Cristoforo.'

'Indeed I must thank you for recommending the book,' said Guy; 'how
beautiful it is!'

'I am glad you entered into it,' said Philip; 'it has every quality that
a fiction ought to have.'

'I never read anything equal to the repentance of the nameless man.'

'Is he your favourite character?' said Philip, looking at him
attentively.

'Oh no--of course not--though he is so grand that one thinks most about
him, but no one can be cared about as much as Lucia.'

'Lucia! She never struck me as more than a well-painted peasant girl,'
said Philip.

'Oh!' cried Guy, indignantly; then, contro