“Assisted to save you, I conclude you mean; for I heard Peters tell your father, that it was the settler who lived in the house near by, and Colonel Carpenter, who finally rescued you.” “Did he tell my father that story, without mentioning Woodburn?” asked Miss Haviland, with a look of mingled surprise and displeasure. “Yes, as he came back to meet us with the news, while we were getting round with the sleigh to the spot.” “Well, my father shall know the truth of the case; and Mr. Woodburn, though he did not boast of his services, nor even stay to give me an opportunity to thank him for what he had done, shall also know that we are not insensible to his gallant conduct; for, whatever they may say, Jane, I am indebted to him for my life. As dreadful as was my situation among that crashing mass of ice, with which I was borne onward down the stream, I saw all that was done. He led the way from the first, contrived the plan, and with the assistance of the hesitating settler, carried it into execution, with a promptitude that alone could have saved me. It is true, that we both must have perished but for the timely arrival of Colonel Carpenter; but that detracts nothing from the merits of Mr. Woodburn, who, as we hung suspended over that frightful abyss, I knew and felt, was throwing his life to the winds to save mine. O, why could it not have been, as I have often said to myself during our cheerless ride this evening,--why could it not have been Peters, to perform all that I have this day seen in that poor, despised, and persecuted young man?” “Why, Mr. Peters certainly appeared much alarmed, and anxious that something should be done to save you,” replied Miss McRea, after a thoughtful pause, produced by the words and fervid manner of her companion. “Then why did he leave it to another to save me?” responded the former, severely. “That I do not know, certainly,” replied the other; “but he at once bestirred himself, and I heard him offer five guineas, and I think he doubled the price the next moment, to any one who would go on to the ice and bring you off.” “Five guineas!” exclaimed Miss Haviland, starting to her feet, with a countenance eloquent with scorn and contempt--“five guineas, and at a pinch, ten! What a singular fountain must that be, from which such a thought, at such a time, could have flowed! Had it been one of those favorite horses, it would have sounded well enough, perhaps, though I think he would have offered more. It is well, however, that I now know the price at which I am estimated,” she added, bitterly. “It _does_ sound rather strangely, now you have named it,” responded Miss McRea, abashed at the unexpected construction put on what she had communicated, and mortified and half vexed, that every attempt she had made to remove her friend's difficulties only made the matter worse: “it sounds oddly, to be sure, but I presume he did not mean any thing.”