f the tiller ropes which has
formed a loop, through which her arm is passed.

"Thank Heaven! You are safe! Here comes the boat! You must let me help
you in, Lady Ruth!" he says, dodging a wave and ready to clutch her if
she lets go.

"I am not alone. You must take him in first," she gasps.

Then John for the first time becomes aware that she is supporting Sir
Lionel, whose arm has also been passed through the rounded tiller rope.

He seems to hang a dead weight.

Amazed at the action of the brave English girl, John at once takes hold
of the soldier. The boat by this time comes up.

In getting him aboard a spill is narrowly averted, and now a new
trouble arises. The boat will hold no more, and is dangerously loaded
even now.

What can be done? Lady Ruth must be taken aboard. Her strength is
almost gone, and John, in deadly fear lest one of the hungry waves
should tear her away before their very eyes, passes an arm around her
waist.

He takes in the situation.

"Here, you!" to the already wet boatman, "tumble overboard, quick now.
We can hold on behind, I reckon."

The man hesitates, and this is a bad time for deliberation.

Professor Sharpe suddenly seizes upon him, and in almost the twinkling
of an eye has the fellow overboard, more through a quick movement than
any show of strength.

"There's a boat from the steamer coming this way. Hail it, Philander!"
exclaims Aunt Gwen, and this gives them new life.

Lady Ruth is now taken into the boat with some degree of caution.

Sir Lionel shows no sign of life, and both ladies are extremely
solicitous about him, so the professor bends down to make a cursory
examination.

"He'll be all right when the water is pumped out of him," he announces.

The boat from the steamer comes up, led to the spot by Philander's
shrill whoops, and the men in the water are rescued.

In ten minutes they reach the side of the steamer and go aboard. A
terrible disaster has been narrowly averted, and John cannot but feel
amazed at the wonderful grit shown by this girl, who saved the baronet
from a watery grave.

It proves his estimation of her qualities at the time she assisted to
bind up his arm was not out of the way.

As the two boatmen are about to go down into their craft again, the one
who has not been in the water beckons John, who has not yet sought his
cabin-room to change his soaked clothes.

"Will the gentleman recover?" he asks.

"You mean Sir Lionel? Oh, yes! He