He had not felt anything like fear during the last few minutes: he was only aware in a rapt dreamy way that something was about to happen--that something which was the end of everything on earth: and he felt sorry for his brother, who would take it terribly to heart that he did not return. But, directly after, his brain was intent upon the efforts he was making to help the rower in front. Then the mist became very thick around them, and as the boat was gliding faster and still faster through the water the already moistened sail seemed to be struck a violent blow which nearly capsized the boat, as she heeled over to port and did not recover. "We're going down," thought Brace, and he closed his eyes and threw back his head till his face was towards the sky, but only to resume his old position, for he awoke to the fact that the men seemed to be making a last desperate attempt to get out of the rushing water. And now, as he unclosed his eyes, it was to find himself in the clear sunshine with the boat dashing at headlong speed through the water, her port gunwale only an inch or two from the surface and the wet sail bellied out in a dangerous way, while Dan was holding on by the sheet. The roar of the water was stunning, but the sudden change in the state of affairs seemed to stun him far more, till it gradually dawned upon him that they had rowed on in their desperation till the boat had passed into a current of air, one caused by the wind striking against and being reflected from the rocks at one side of the falls, and by whose help they were gliding so rapidly into safer waters that the men suddenly ceased rowing, while Lynton uttered a yell. "Look, look!" he shouted. "Do you see? Do you see?" "See? How?" panted Briscoe. "I am nearly blind with staring at death." "Yes, yes, but look, look! Mr Brace--the water, the water! We have got into an eddy, and it is setting right away from the falls." Brace turned round and saw that Lynton's words were true. He sat staring at the water until he was recalled to a sense of what was passing around him by hearing Lynton's voice. "Oh, catch hold, sir; catch hold of this tiller and steer. Let her go-- fast as she will--so as to get away from this horrid place. Quick! quick! I can't bear it! I'm going mad!" Brace snatched at the tiller, and only just in time, for Lynton's grasp upon it gave out, and with a lurch forward he fell upon his face, which was, however, saved from injury, for he had clasped his hands upon it, and now lay in the bottom of the boat, hysterically sobbing with emotion like a girl. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. BRISCOE'S YELLOW FEVER. Brace felt shocked at seeing a strong man so overcome, and carefully refrained from glancing at the American, for fear of seeing a look of contempt in his eyes.