ves this time."

First sending forth another long, clear call, to which Frank added the
shrillness of his small but carrying voice, they started off along the
river bank. It seemed miles, hours, as they stumbled along, now over a
stone, now crashing into a bush--but every now and then sending forth
another call, which was answered, thank God, now much nearer. At last,
through the gloom, for by this it was almost dark, they made out two
figures coming slowly towards them.

"Charlie--my darling, whatever made you do it?" began Lalante as she
hugged the smallest of these; womanlike mingling a touch of scold with
the joy of the restoration.

"Oh, Lala, you're not cross, are you? I couldn't help it," was the
answer, in a tired voice.

"Cross--cross! Oh, you darling, how should I be cross!" raining kisses
all over the wet little face. Then, unclasping one arm, she held out a
hand.

"Oh, Mr Warren!" was all that she could say, but it seemed to express
everything.

Warren took it, in a firm sympathetic grasp. He himself was looking
rather fagged--in fact, decidedly not himself--which was little to be
wondered at. What he himself wondered was that he was there at all.

"All's well that ends well, Miss Lalante," he said, cheerily, "which, if
not original, about sums up the situation. We're all about equally wet
for that matter, but as long as we keep moving we shan't take any harm,
and the way back to the house, if not long, is rough enough to keep up
our circulation."

"What can I say to you, Mr Warren?" went on Lalante. "You were just
telling me the strongest swimmer would stand no chance in that flood,
and then you deliberately went in yourself."

"Not deliberately, Miss Lalante," smiled Warren. "I assure you it was
all on the spur of the moment. Charlie, it's lucky you had the
foresight to tumble in above us. If it had been down stream I could
never have got near you."

As a matter of fact the feat had been one of great daring and skill, and
having accomplished it Warren felt secretly elated as they took their
way home. He realised the warm admiration and gratitude which it had
aroused in the girl, and, now that it had ended well, he looked upon the
whole affair as a gigantic stroke of luck, and, in fact, as the very
best thing that could have happened to him. Bye and bye, when Wyvern's
memory should begin to dim, then this appreciation would turn to
something stronger. Curses on Wyvern! Why shoul