"Yes, yes; very true. You want me to hold the torch, I suppose. Gad! what a dream I had! I was dining with Lord Balsover. I'd give my title and fortune to be back in London this minute." "Hold your torch straight," said the colonel dryly, and then under the regular strokes of four paddles the canoe moved swiftly toward the distant sound of running water. Every instant it grew louder and more distinct, and soon their voices were almost drowned in the roar. It was a period of terrible anxiety. That it was the outlet of the lake they were approaching no one for an instant doubted. Their chief concern was for a safe passage into the river beyond, for the angry splash of the water told plainly its turbulent and dangerous nature. "Keep a little off from the shore," cried Guy. "It won't do to make too sharp a curve or we shall upset. We must strike the current fairly in the center and keep the canoe straight as an arrow. Whatever happens, don't drop the torch," he added warningly. Close as they now were to the outlet, no signs of any current were yet visible. The colonel called attention to this strange fact, but Guy explained it by remarking that the current probably passed directly through the center of the lake and that dead water continued to the very edge. "I can see a white gleam ahead," he cried suddenly; "now paddle off from shore a little more and head the canoe as I tell you." His orders were obeyed in silence. Straight out from the shore the canoe shot deftly. A couple of quick strokes forward and backward and its bow faced the angry waters that raged and foamed thirty yards distant. The radius of the torch cast a faint gleam on the very edge of the glistening spray. It seemed to beckon them onward. "Now give way," cried Guy. Four paddles dipped and rose as one, the shining drops rolled from their blades like so many diamonds in the torch-glare, and then Guy sprang to his feet with a loud cry. The paddles wavered in mid-air. "Go ahead," he shouted fiercely. "Paddle with all your strength." Once more they dipped the water, the canoe moved slowly--with an effort, and as the paddles a second time paused in air, the canoe shot swiftly--not forward to the embrace of the angry waters, but back--_back at dizzy speed into the dark and dismal recesses of the lake_. Even then the awful, unspeakable horror of the situation never flashed upon them, Guy alone perhaps excepted. "We've blundered again," cried the colonel in hollow tones. "We have returned to the starting point. In some manner we have missed the outlet, and now all must be done over again." "Could the canoe have been turned completely about during our journey?" exclaimed Forbes.