It was one of the last days of May, and the weather, which had been chilly and disagreeable during the preceding week, was warm and pleasant. I had been to school, as usual, in my boat, and was taking Bob out for a sail, intending to land him at Parkville before dark, and return to the cottage of my uncle beyond the town. I had made one long stretch with the wind on the beam, nearly over to Cannondale; in fact, the water was beginning to shoal off the point half a mile to the northward and eastward of that town. Along the shore of the lake for two or three miles, on each side of Cannondale, were many beautiful residences, occupied by wealthy people, who were attracted to the locality by the pleasant but not picturesque scenery. It was a delightful region for a summer sojourn, though many of the people were permanent residents. "Well, Bob, we must come about or get aground," I continued. "Where shall we go now?" "Anywhere you please, Ernest. I enjoy sailing wherever you go, though I like running along the shore, where you can enjoy these fine gardens, and occasionally look in upon a pleasant party, especially if they happen to be singing, or playing a lively game." "That's just my idea; and we will follow the shore round to Parkville. The wind will favor us all the way." I put the Splash about, and with the wind on the quarter, laid a course which kept the boat within a few rods of the shore. From the beach in the rear of many of the houses, little piers, not more than three or four feet wide, were extended into the lake, for the convenience of embarking and landing in the boats, with which nearly every dwelling was supplied. We were approaching one of these piers belonging to the first house beyond the Point, when Bob and myself were startled by a shrill scream, which caused both of us to spring to our feet. "What does that mean?" demanded Bob. "I don't know. I can't see anything," I replied. "Is it somebody overboard?" "I don't see any one. It came from the garden beyond that first pier." "There it is again," said Bob, greatly excited, as the scream was repeated. We were not long left in doubt in regard to the person who had uttered the cry; for a girl immediately emerged from the foliage of the garden, and ran down to the end of the pier, where she paused and looked timorously behind her. We looked anxiously for the cause of her terror, almost expecting to see a bear, a wolf, or at least a savage dog, in pursuit of the hapless maiden. The young lady was nicely dressed, and seemed to be fourteen years of age. Of course Bob and I were both willing "to do or die" in her defence, though we were just then rather too far off to be of instant service to her, even if any savage beast had assailed her. "What's the matter with her?" said Bob; "she appears to be frightened out of her wits." "I don't see anything to alarm her." "Nor I."