asy enough if he finds th' reet place."

"Oh, thank God for that!" cried Jinny with momentary hope. "Will ye
show me wheer's th' reet place, quick, for the wayter's coomin' in
awful fast. It's down by th' steppin'-stones yon, isn't it?"

"Aye," replied the girl, 'it's down theer; ye'd best go an' look for
'em."

"Eh dear! won't ye show me?" cried Jinny wringing her hands. "I'll
gi'e you all as I 'ave i' th' world. My watch, see--an' I've money i'
th' box a' whoam--I'll gi'e you everythin'. Eh, do run down wi' me
now, else it'll be too late."

"I want noan o' your brass an' stuff," cried Sally violently. "He's
nought to me--let him drown if he can't save hissel'. He's yourn an'
not mine. Ye'd best see to him."

"Eh, you wicked, wicked wench!" sobbed Jinny. "'Owever can ye find it
i' your 'eart--but I'll waste no more time on you."

She clambered on, and soon was flying down the slope on the farther
side. How long she ran she could not tell--it seemed to her a century
since she had left the shore behind. Her brain reeled, her heart
throbbed to suffocation--the terrible thought was ever present to her
mind: "At this moment perhaps he is drowning--I may find him dead when
I go back." Her very desperation lent her speed, and, moreover,
fortune favoured her quest, for it was in reality only a very few
minutes after her parting with Sally that she came upon a loving
couple seated by the road-side. The man was a fisherman well known to
Jinny. How she explained and what she promised she never quite knew,
but, in an inconceivably short space of time they were speeding back
together, the man preceding her with long, swinging strides. There was
no time to lose in looking for a rope--he thought he knew a place
where he could get Mr. Dickinson across; if not available, he himself
could swim.

But, lo and behold! when they reached the summit of the hill and were
about to plunge downwards to the shore, an unlooked-for sight met
their eyes. There, on the hither side of the river stood John, alive
and well, though plastered with mud from head to foot, and by his side
was Sally, with her drenched raiment clinging to her, and the water
dripping from the loosened strands of her long hair.

"Seems soombry else has had the savin' of him," cried the fisherman,
astonished and perhaps a little disappointed; Mrs. Dickinson had
promised such wonderful things.

Jinny, speechless with joy, ran down the slope and flung herself upon
her hu