“I may be stupid, perhaps, but I think it dangerous, and willingly avoid the responsibility. So few men understand how to sail a boat. Unless you had heard as much as I have, you could not imagine how often they upset; and when women are on board, what can be the consequence but mischief?” “Some people are not so cautious, for I see a boat on the lake; and if I do not mistake, Maurice Duncan and the two Barhams are in it.” “Yes; but they are only sculling along, and a girl might do that. I really do not suppose we could sail if we tried; there is scarcely a breath of wind, or only a puff at intervals.” The path down which they were descending was so screened by shrubs, that although they could catch a glimpse of the lake and its borders here and there, they were unseen themselves by those below. There were a good many people on the bank; at a little distance, a group of children were merrily dancing to a violin which one of the woodmen had produced; near them were some mammas and elder sisters, looking on, and admiring. Victoria was close enough to recognize some individuals; they saw Charles Huyton, encouraging the frolics of the children; Mrs. Fielding and Hilary were standing under a tree at the edge of the lake, where a steep bank formed a promontory above the water, apparently watching Maurice’s boat, which was slowly approaching them. When they had descended a few yards further, they entirely lost sight of the loiterers by the lake, and, although so near as to catch voices and laughter, were unable to discover what was passing. They heard a child’s voice cry, “Hilary! Hilary!” and recognized the merry tones of little Nest; then some one, in an accent of alarm, cried, “Take care!” and then there was a shriek, an exclamation of terror from many voices, a plunge in the water, and a silence. Captain Hepburn sprang forward, and in a moment had cleared the underwood, and obtained sight of the bank and the water. Mrs. Fielding stood where she had been, and many had rushed to the water’s edge, and were gazing in. Hilary and Nest were both out of sight. CHAPTER X. “What! thou think’st men speak in courtly chambers, Words by which the wretched are consoled? What! thou think’st this aching brow was cooler, Circled, Tristram, by a crown of gold?” ISEULT. The cry of alarm had brought Charles Huyton also to the spot where the accident had happened; for one brief moment the rivals stood side by side and gazed upon the scene. Under the steep, shelving bank, nearly submerged in the water, but clinging with her left arm to a long, pendant root, hung Hilary, and with her right hand she grasped, with all the energy of terrified love, the skirt of her sister’s dress, thereby but little supporting the child, and risking herself to be drawn from her precarious hold, and plunged in deep water by her struggles. Captain Hepburn and Charles Huyton simultaneously flung off their coats.