They knotted the rope hurriedly and threw it down. In a moment he threw the rope over the girl’s limp body, tightened it, and they drew her up safely. In the same manner they rescued him, and again the loud shouts of joy rose up from the shore. They carried the girl’s limp, wet body to the shore, and her preserver followed after. It was the tall man Max had seen behind the tree--it was Oran Delaney. People looked at him in wonder. It was so seldom that he appeared in public that it always caused surprise to see him. His sudden appearance in this romantic _rôle_ was a nine days’ wonder. But he did not stay to hear their wondering congratulations. Mrs. Rodney had recovered from her faint, and he hurriedly placed her with the frightened Max and the still unconscious girl in a passing conveyance, then wrapped himself in his furred overcoat and hastened home. Mrs. Griffin was astonished and frightened when her master walked in so wet and cold. She exclaimed loudly upon his plight. “It is nothing. I have only had a fall into the river,” he replied, carelessly. “But I thought that the river was all frozen over?” she said, perplexed. “Yes, but I broke through the ice,” said Mr. Delaney. “Oh, dear, dear, then you have got your death of cold!” cried Mrs. Griffin in alarm. “Pray do not make me out a girl or a baby,” he said, impatiently. “When I get some warm, dry clothes, I shall do very well.” She busied herself in laying them out for him, and when she had done this she made some warm drinks for him. “To drive the cold out of your system,” she said, fussily, but kindly. He drank something just to please her, and then he hurried away from her, disregarding her pathetic entreaty that he would go to bed and wrap up warmly in blankets, that his wetting and freezing might not do him any harm. “As if there were danger, when my heart and brain are on fire,” he said to himself. He went up to a quiet little chamber in the tower, and peered, with burning eyes, down at a little white-curtained window of his neighbor’s house. He could dimly see figures moving about the little room as if they were busy over something. “Has she revived?” he asked himself, anxiously. “Poor child! she went under the black water twice before I reached her. It was only the strength of my despair that enabled me to bring her up to the surface again. Oh, how fearful it was! the cold, black water, the jagged ice, the terrible danger! And yet I would risk life and limb again a hundred times to save her life!” CHAPTER XXXIX. “Ah, dearie me, but it’s a lonesome life, after all,” sighed Mrs. Griffin. The good soul was sitting by the comfortable stove in the commodious kitchen of Delaney House, intent upon the concoction of some savory broth that was simmering on the stove. It was on the evening of the day that Mr. Delaney had saved Aline Rodney from drowning.