To these officials, protesting, excusing, arrived in a mass a body of white-faced men and women, demanding with one voice their lost--a young man, an undergraduate; tall, fair, in a white flannel suit; last seen standing on the side of the boat helping to lower the women into the water; a young girl, in a boating-dress of blue and white. They were not among the rescued. They had not been seen since the moment of the accident. _Where were they_? As Darsie stood, ghastly and shuddering, by the water brink, she was subconsciously aware of a strong arm in hers. Subconsciously also she was aware that the arm belonged to Dan Vernon, but she had no time for look or word; her whole being was strung to one agonising thought. Mr Percival supported his half-fainting wife; the two sisters clung together; the relations of Mary Everard paced wildly to and fro. On shore all was tumult and confusion, on the river sunbeams sparkled, the stream was quiet and undisturbed. "Percival was like a fish: Percival could have kept afloat for hours." A voice separated itself from the confused babel, and struck on Darsie's ear, but even as her heart leaped upward another voice spoke. "It is not a case of swimming. 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.