wimming. If he were not quick enough in getting away--if
he were caught beneath--penned!"

The strong arm gripped her more firmly still, steadied her trembling. A
fierce voice issued an order for "Silence! Silence!"

Margaret France came up with beautiful soft eyes and a beautiful soft
voice. She spoke wise, tender words. You were to come away--it was
better so. It would add to your friends' distress if you were ill. You
were wet, cold. You were to be sensible and come home.

Darsie looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment. She was thinking
that she loved Margaret France, that she had taken a fancy to her the
first evening at Newnham. How droll and witty she had been as an
auctioneer! Of the purport of her present words she had no
comprehension. She sighed and turned her face to the river.

"Leave her to me," said Dan's voice quietly. "I will take care of her."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

They found them at sundown; the two young, fair bodies--the tall, pale
lad, the slim, dark maid--two cold effigies of youth, and health, and
joy. On Ralph's forehead was a deep red mark, the mark of the blow
which had given him a prey to the waters; but Mary's brown locks floated
round a sweet, untroubled face.

They bore them to the mortuary, and those who loved them sat and wept
alone. Darsie spent the two following days with the stricken family,
who found their one comfort in listening again and again to the story of
Ralph's brave end. Weak and unstable in life, in death he had shown a
gallant front, and more than one of the unfortunate crew came forward to
testify to his courageous and selfless efforts on their behalf.

Mr Percival went about with a set face and shoulders bowed like those
of an old man. The girls wept helplessly from morn till night; Mrs
Percival lost in one night all lingering trace of youth; she kept up
bravely before her husband and daughters, but alone with Darsie her
anguish found vent.

"My son, my son! He was so good to me--so loving and kind. His faults
were the faults of youth, and, oh, Darsie, my, faults also! We blamed
him for faults which we had not tried to check. If he had lived and had
been obliged to face life for himself he would have risen to it, as he
rose to that last great chance. It takes a brave man to face death
calmly. He was not weak or selfish then--my Ralph! No one dared call
him weak. Thank God! We wer