When Dr. Freeman entered the bedroom from which he had been called to Edward Armstrong, he saw at a glance that his colleague, Dr. Anson, was more hopeful than ever. Every remedy used in cases of drowning had been tried, but Dr. Anson evidently considered that the continued state of unconsciousness, in which Maria St. Clair lay, was attributable to another cause. To conquer the effects of this cause was now his aim; yet half an hour passed before his efforts were rewarded with even a shadow of success. Maria St. Clair lay still and nerveless on the bed. From her pale face the golden curls had been pushed back, and lay scattered in disordered profusion on the pillow. Although the summer twilight still lingered, the gas had been lighted to assist the medical men in their efforts to restore life. Dr. Anson stood with his fingers on the delicate wrist, and as his colleague entered he made a sign for him to draw near the bed. On the opposite side near the head sat Mrs. St. Clair, holding the hand of her daughter, Helen, in a convulsive grasp. The crisis had come, and the mother and daughter were awaiting with painful intentness the result of the doctor's efforts. Minutes passed, but they did not relax these efforts. Presently Dr. Anson looked up suddenly; his sensitive fingers had detected a slight vibration at the wrist. For a few moments there was a pause, a breathless stillness had seemed to foreshadow the approach of death. It was but the intensity of suspense--every eye rested on the fair, pale face. Was it fancy? Did the eyelids really quiver, and the lips tremble? Yes; for as the eyes languidly opened, the lips parted and a breath like a sigh gave evidence of returning life. Mrs. St. Clair rose hastily and clung to her married daughter, while the doctor quickly administered a stimulant which, to his great joy, the patient was able to swallow. Gradually the feeble breath became more regular, the eyes more intelligent, and a faint colour overspread the cheek. Again the doctor offered the stimulant, and this time it was taken more easily, and the patient made an effort to speak. "Mamma, are you here?" were the faint, feeble words. "Yes, darling," said Mrs. St. Clair, coming round to the other side of the bed with Mrs. Herbert, "and Helen is here too." "Where is little Charlie?" "Safe in bed and asleep," was the reply. "Mamma, who saved us?" she asked, after a pause. "You and Charlie owe your lives, under God, to a stranger who is lodging here with Mrs. Lake," replied her mother. "Mamma, let me thank him. Where is he?" "In bed, and I hope asleep," exclaimed Dr. Freeman; "and, my dear young lady, we must get you to sleep quickly, too, or there is no answering for the consequences. You shall see our friend to-morrow and thank him yourself."