The body of water which was known as Cannomore Lake had been increased immensely beyond its normal proportions by a dam of unusual height, and, as some undertook to prove by the laws of mechanics, of illegal proportions and construction. It was owned by a club of wealthy sportsmen, and used as a fishing-ground; and it was stated that the waste-gates, which the extra proportions and alleged unscientific construction of the dam made more than ever necessary, had been permanently stopped up, to prevent the escape of the fish; that the very building of the dam had been earnestly protested against; that the inhabitants of the valley had lived in constant terror of it; and that some months before the actual catastrophe it had been pronounced by skilled engineers in a dangerous condition. But the lake had also been used as a reservoir to supply the town which had suffered most heavily from its breaking bounds; and some were inclined to cast a part of the blame upon the authorities there; but it was a question whether in this matter they could have taken any measures, which would have been at all sufficient, without the consent of the club; since the dam could only have been thoroughly repaired after draining off the water, and at great cost. “And of course in the height of the fishing season letting off the water was not to be dreamed of,” was the angry murmur; “for what to a club of millionnaires were the lives of a few thousand factory hands, compared with the enjoyment of their favorite sport?” There were not wanting, either, allusions to the feeding of the carp in the Roman fish-ponds, which, it was darkly hinted, preceded by not so _very_ many years the fall of the Roman empire. Against this spirit Ernest Clare felt it imperative to make all the stand possible. It was in itself but a trickle, yet it threatened a more terrible inundation than that of Cannomore, and he was ready, if necessary, to stop the leak with his own body. “These are but newspaper reports,” be said. “No one knows, or can know, where lies the blame, until a thorough investigation has been held, which will not be possible for some time yet. And, even then, human justice is not infallible, and this is a matter of which it will be difficult to take an impartial view. Leave the question of retribution in the hands of God; you have enough to do in helping those who have suffered.” “Ah!” said Karl Metzerott, “if there were a God, and He’d _do_ it, I’d ask nothing better.” “See here, my friend,” said Mr. Clare, “suppose each and every member of that club to be as culpable as you believe him; would you exchange with him? his money and his guilt against your honest poverty and self-respect?” “By ——! I’d see him in —— first!” was the reply. “Then you are better off than he, as you deserve to be, and God _is_ doing right by both of you,” said Mr. Clare. “Do you suppose Henry Randolph would exchange with _me_?” was the scornful question.