"With nothing to eat," added George, who remembered the brick-red Indian pudding they were to have had for dinner. "Don't be scared, children; go ahead," said Dr. Hilton, from the bank. "What! Would you have 'em risk their lives?" said the timid toll-gatherer. "Look at them blocks crowding up against the piers! Hear what a thunder they make! And the logs swimming down in booms! You step into our house, children, and my wife and the neighbors, we'll contrive to stow you away somewheres." Crowds of people were collecting on the bank watching the ice go out. "Well, you are in a pretty fix, children," said one of the men. "How did your folks happen to let you come?" The Lymans stood dumb and transfixed. "Hurry! Why don't you step lively?" said Dr. Hilton, and two or three other men. "Stay where you are, children," cried Mr. Chase and Dr. Potter from the other bank. "If we could only see father!" said one of the twins. Brave as they both thought themselves, the roaring torrent appalled them. Suddenly there was a shout from the other end of the bridge as loud and shrill as a fog-bell:-- "Children, come home! George! Silas! Mary? Be quick?" It was Squire Lyman's voice. "What shall we do?" cried Mary, running round and round. "'Twon't do to risk it, neighbor Lyman," screamed the toll-gatherer. "Children, run! there is time," answered the father, hoarsely. It was Mary who called back again, "Yes, father, we'll come." For the twins did not seem to feel clear what to do. "He knows," thought she. "What father tells us to do must be right." She stepped firmly upon the shaking bridge. For an instant Moses hesitated, then followed with Patty; and after him came the twins, with their teeth firmly set. "Quick! quick!" screamed Squire Lyman. "Run for your lives!" "Run! run!" echoed the people on both banks; but Mr. Griggs's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. The roaring torrent and the high wind together were rocking the bridge like a cradle. If it had not been for Patty! All the rest could run. It seemed as if the mud on the child's shoes had turned to lead. She hung, crying and struggling, a dead weight between Moses and Mary, who pulled her forward, without letting her little toddling feet touch the ground. The small procession of five, how eagerly everybody watched it! The poor toll-gatherer, if he had had the courage, would have run after the children, and snatched them back from their doom. Every looker-on was anxious; yet all the anxiety of the multitude could not equal the agonizing suspense in that one father's heart. He thought he knew the strength of the piers; he thought he could tell how long they would stand against the ice; but what if he had made a mistake? The children did not get on quite as fast as he had expected. Every moment seemed an age, for they were running for their lives! It was over at last, the bridge was crossed, the children were safe!