Then the conversation ceased. Words seemed to be a trouble in the beauty of that evening scene, one so imprinted in the breasts of the spectators that it was never forgotten. The boat was kept from floating down with the quick racing current by a sharp dip of the oars just given now and then, while every touch of the long blue blades seemed to be into liquid gold and silver and ruddy gems. The wind had sunk, and, saving the occasional distance--softened lowing from the meads, no sound came from the shore; but always like distant thunder, heard upon the summer breeze, came the never-ceasing, low-pitched roar of the falling water at the weir. The silence was at last broken by Scarlett, who said suddenly, making his hearers start: "Now then, Jack, one row round by the piles, and then home." "Right," said the doctor, throwing the end of his cigar into the water, where it fell with a hiss; and bending to his oar, the light gig was sent up against the racing water nearer and nearer to the weir. The ladies joined hands, as if there was danger, but became reassured as they saw their protectors smile; and soon after, quite near to where the river came thundering down from where it was six feet above their heads, instead of the stream forcing them away, the water seemed comparatively still, the eddy setting slightly towards the weir. "Here's one of the deep places," said Scarlett. "I fished here once, and my plummet went down over twenty feet." "And you didn't catch a gudgeon?" said the doctor. "Not one," replied Scarlett. "How deep and black it looks!" said Prayle softly, as he laved one soft white hand in the water. "Enough to make it," said Scarlett--"deep as that. I say, what a place for a header!" "Ah, splendid!" said the doctor; "only, you mustn't dive onto pile or stone. I say, hadn't we better keep off a little more?" "Yes," said Scarlett, rising, oar in hand. "I never knew the eddy set in so sharply before.--Why, auntie, if we went much nearer, it would carry us right in beneath the falling water, and we should be filled." "Pray, take care, James." "To be sure I will, my dear auntie," he said, as he stood up there in the soft evening light, "I'll take care of you all, my precious freight;" and wailing his time, he thrust the blade of his oar against a pile, placed one foot upon the gunwale, and pressing heavily, he sent the boat steadily farther and farther away, "Back water, Jack," he said.--"Now!" As he spoke, he gave one more thrust; but in the act there was a sharp crack as the frail ashen oar snapped in twain, a shriek of horror from Lady Scarlett as she started up, and a dull, heavy plunge, making the water foam up, as Sir James Scarlett went in head foremost and disappeared. Volume 1, Chapter XI. THE DOCTOR ABROAD.