He reached his whole length over the boat, I ran to his side, and perhaps our motion impelled it, or perhaps some unseen hand; for he caught at an end of rope, drew it in a second, let go and clutched at a handful of the sail, and then I saw how it had twisted round and swept poor little Faith over, and she had swung there in it, like a dead butterfly in a chrysalis. The lightnings were slipping down into the water like blades of fire everywhere around us, with short, sharp volleys of thunder, and the waves were more than I ever rode this side of the bar before or since, and we took in water every time our hearts beat; but we never once thought of our own danger while we bent to pull dear little Faith out of hers; and that done, Dan broke into a great hearty fit of crying that I’m sure he’d no need to be ashamed of. But it didn’t last long; he just up and dashed off the tears and set himself at work again, while I was down on the floor rubbing Faith. There she lay like a broken lily, with no life in her little white face, and no breath, and maybe a pulse and maybe not. I couldn’t hear a word Dan said, for the wind; and the rain was pouring through us. I saw him take out the oars, but I knew they’d do no good in such a chop, even if they didn’t break; and pretty soon he found it so, for he drew them in and began to untie the anchor-rope and wind it round his waist. I sprang to him. “What are you doing, Dan?” I exclaimed. “I can swim, at least,” he answered. “And tow us?——a mile? You know you can’t! It’s madness!” “I must try. Little Faith will die, if we don’t get ashore.” “She’s dead now, Dan.” “What! No, no, she isn’t. Faith isn’t dead. But we must get ashore.” “Dan,” I cried, clinging to his arm, “Faith’s only one. But if you die so,——and you will!——I shall die too.” “You?” “Yes; because, if it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have been here at all.” “And is that all the reason?” he asked, still at work. “Reason enough,” said I. “Not quite,” said he. “Dan,——for my sake——” “I can’t, Georgie. Don’t ask me. I mustn’t——” And here he stopped short, with the coil of rope in his hand, and fixed me with his eye, and his look was terrible,——“_we_ mustn’t let Faith die.” “Well,” I said, “try it, if you dare; and as true as there’s a Lord in heaven, I’ll cut the rope!” He hesitated, for he saw I was resolute; and I would, I declare I would have done it; for, do you know, at the moment, I hated the little dead thing in the bottom of the boat there. Just then there came a streak of sunshine through the gloom where we’d been plunging between wind and water, and then a patch of blue sky, and the great cloud went blowing down river. Dan threw away the rope and took out the oars again. “Give me one, Dan,” said I; but he shook his head. “O Dan, because I’m so sorry!” “See to her, then,——fetch Faith to,” he replied, not looking at me, and making up with great sturdy pulls.