many a year, with a long, steady
stroke that made the skiff fairly leap. Who does not know that feeling
of exhilaration as the blades grip the water and the gentle lapping at
the bow swells into a gurgling song?

The memorable time when I had "stroked" Cambridge to victory was
nothing to this. Then it was but empty glory that hung in the balance,
while now I settled my feet more firmly, and lengthening my stroke,
pulled with a will. Lisbeth sat up, and I saw her fingers tighten upon
the rudder-lines.

"You asked me to row, you know," I said in response to her look.

"Yo ho!" roared Scarlet Sam in the gruffest of nautical tones. "By the
deep nine, an' the wind's a-lee, so heave, my mariners all--O!"

At first we began to gain considerably upon our pursuer, but presently
I saw him turn his head, saw the Panama tossed aside as Mr. Selwyn
settled down to real business--and the struggle began.

Very soon, probably owing to the fixedness of my gaze, or my
unremitting exertion, or both, Lisbeth seemed to become aware of the
situation, and turned to look over her shoulder. I set my teeth as I
waited to meet her indignant look, for I had determined to continue the
struggle, come what might. But when at last she did confront me her
eyes were shining, her cheeks were flushed and there actually was--the
dimple.

"Sit still, children," she said, and that was all; but for one moment
her eyes looked into mine.

The old river has witnessed many a hard-fought race in its time, but
never was there one more hotly contested than this. Never was the song
of the water more pleasant to my ear, never was the spring and bend of
the long sculls more grateful, as the banks swept by faster and faster.
No pirate straining every inch of canvas to escape well-merited
capture, no smuggler fleeing for some sheltered cove, with the revenue
cutter close astern, ever experienced a keener excitement than did we.

The Imp was in a perfect ecstasy of delight; even Dorothy forgot her
beloved Louise for the time, while Lisbeth leaner toward me, the
tiller-lines over her shoulders, her lips parted and a light in her
eyes I had never seen there before. And yet Selwyn hung fast in our
rear. If he was deficient in a sense of humour, he could certainly row.

"He was an Oxford Blue," said Lisbeth, speaking almost in a whisper,
"and he has an empty boat!"

I longed to kiss the point of her little tan shoe or the hem of her
dress for those impulsiv