“Have I? I was scarcely conscious of it. I have stepped on many sharp stones, and these thin slippers are not much protection. No, there is no boat,” she said, after some searching. “What shall we do? We have made a short cut, but those wretches may yet find us, if we keep this side of the creek. Oh, I am afraid they will; I am afraid!” She caught Mr. Baldwin’s arm with a sudden fear. “God forbid that they should find us!” “You are hurt too. You are wounded, I know, but do you think you could swim to that little island in mid-stream? I would rather drown in making the attempt than have them get me.” “And I would rather you did. I think I can make it, and I can help you.” “Oh, I can swim, if I have the strength. I but need that. Hark!” There was a sound of voices and of crackling branches among the trees behind them, and, with one accord, they plunged into the stream, and with slow, but sure progress, swimming, floating, or making feeble strokes, managed to reach the opposite shore, and when they drew themselves up on the sands, their pursuers were parted from them by a considerable stream of water. Lettice dropped almost fainting on the ground, and her companion was hardly less exhausted. It would have been a very trifling feat for either one of them, ordinarily, but the previous strain had nearly robbed them of their strength, and they sat there for some moments, scarce able and scarce daring to move. “We are very wet,” said Mr. Baldwin at last. Lettice gave a feebly hysterical laugh. “I am very conscious of it. It is a warm night, but I confess to feeling cooler than is agreeable. Do you think they will attempt to cross?” “No; and I am sure they did not discover us. They did not dream of looking in this direction.” “That good, kind moon,” said Lettice, raising her face. “She was so good to screen us with her clouds just at the right moment.” “There are times when clouds can be of more use than sunshine, it seems.” “In this case, surely. Now I am thinking that if it should come on to rain, we would be in a sorry plight. We cannot be much wetter than we are, but there would be no chance of getting dry if it should rain. When we are rested, I think we can find the boat we want to take us over to the mainland. The water is quite shallow beyond, and persons often ford the stream to this island, leave their horses here and boat over to the shore we have left. Since we found no boat there, I conclude it is here.” “That is good news. We are not cast on a desert island then.” “No, as long as we can find the means to leave it. I think the boat would be over in that direction, among the bushes. We shall have to row around the island to the other side. Do you suppose we can do so without fear of being seen?” “I think our pursuers have given up the hope of finding us, for they seemed to be going back the way they came. I think we are safe, but it will not do to take any needless risk.”