ere she was until everyone else had
gone home. If anyone followed her, they would soon go away again when
they found she would not talk to them.

She got behind a tall stack of boxes, and turned her back on everyone.
Her face was turned to the sea; her eyes gazed at the heaving waters,
and the sun setting behind them, but her thoughts were with Mona.

"How she did cry, poor Mona! I didn't know she cared for her granny so
much." Then she wondered what they were doing at that moment, and how
Mrs. Barnes was taking her loss. By degrees the sun disappeared
altogether, and twilight began to creep over her world. Gradually the
sounds of play and laughter and gossiping voices ceased. One by one old
folks and young went home.

"I'd better go too," thought Patty, "or mother will be wondering where I
am. Oh, dear, there's my bootlace untied again!" Still standing close to
the edge of the Quay, she had stooped to tie the lace when, suddenly from
behind, she received a blow in the back which sent her completely off her
balance. Reeling forward, she grabbed wildly at the rail to try and save
herself, but missed it, and with a shriek of terror she fell over the edge
and into the water below. With another shriek she disappeared, and the
water closed over her.

Whence the blow came, or how, she had not time to think. It seemed to her
as though the sky had fallen and struck her. She did not hear another cry
which broke from someone's throat as her body disappeared, nor hear or see
Millie Higgins running as though the police were already after her.

Millie's first instinct was to get as far from the scene as possible.
No one must know that she had been anywhere near the fatal spot.
Then, fortunately, better and less selfish thoughts came to her.
Patty was there alone in the deep cold water, in the dimness, fighting for
her life. If help did not come to her quickly she would die--and who was
there to help but herself?

"Patty!" she called. "Patty! Where are you?" Her voice rose high and
shrill with terror. "Oh, Patty, do speak!"

Then up through the water came a small, dark head and white face, and
then, to Millie's intense relief, a pair of waving arms.

She was not dead, and she was conscious. "Oh, thank God!" moaned Millie,
and for perhaps the first time in her life she really thanked Him, and
sent up a real prayer from the depths of her heart.

"Patty," she called, "swim towards me. I'll help you."

Poor P