The boat, however, deeply laden, no longer rose over the waves, but dipped her bow and took in more water at every plunge. “Tell me this hand is mine, my own dearest Florence--mine for ever, and see how it will nerve my arm. I am powerless if I am hopeless. Tell me that I have something to live for, and I live.” “Oh, Harry, is it when my heart is dying with fear that you ask me this? Is it generous--is it fair? There! the sail is gone! the ropes are torn across.” “It is only the jib, darling, and we shall be better without it. Speak, Florence! say it is my own wife I am saving--not the bride of that man, who, if he were here, would be at your feet in craven terror this instant.” “There goes the mast!” At the word the spar snapped close to the thwart and fell over the side, carrying the sail with it. The boat now lay with one gunwale completely under water, helpless and water-logged. A wild shriek burst from the girl, who thought all was lost. “Courage, dearest--courage! she’ll float still. Hold close to me and fear nothing. It is not Loyd’s arm that you have to trust to, but that of one who never knew terror!” The waves surged up now with every heaving of the boat, so as to reach their breasts, and, sometimes striking on the weather-side, broke in great sheets of water over them. “Oh, can you save us, Harry--can you save us?” cried she. “Yes, if there’s aught worth saving,” said he, sternly. “It is not safety that I am thinking of; it is what is to come after. Have I your promise? Are you mine?” “Oh! do not ask me this; have pity on me.” “Where is your pity for me? Be quick, or it will be too late. Answer me--mine or his?” “His to the last!” cried she, with a wild shriek; and clasping both her hands above her head, she would have fallen had he not held her. “One chance more. Refuse me, and I leave you to your fate!” cried he, sternly. She could not speak, but in the agony of her terror she threw her arms around and clasped him wildly. The dark dense cloud that rested on the lake was rent asunder by a flash of lightning at the instant, and a sound like a thousand great guns shook the air. The wind skimming the sea, carried sheets of water along and almost submerged the boat as they passed. “Yes or no!” shouted Calvert, madly, as he struggled to disengage himself from her grasp. “No!” she cried, with a wild yell that rung above all the din of the storm, and as she said it he threw her arms wide and flung her from him. Then, tearing off his coat, plunged into the lake. [Illustration: Flung her into the lake]