Arthur Prayle frowned and went aft. Lady Scarlett made a supreme effort to be calm; while Aunt Sophia, with her lips pressed lightly together, knelt there, watchful and ready, as the doctor toiled on. She it was who, unasked, passed him the cushions which he laid beneath the apparently drowned man, and, at a word, was the first to strip away the coverings from his feet and apply friction, while Scales was hard at work trying to produce artificial respiration by movements of his patient's arms. "Don't be down-hearted," he said; "only work. We want warmth and friction to induce the circulation to return. Throw plenty of hope into your efforts, and, with God's help, we'll have him back to life." Naomi Raleigh would have helped had there been room, but there was none, and she could only sit with starting eyes watching the efforts that were made, while Prayle tried hard with the oar to hasten the progress of the boat. There was no sign of life in the figure that lay there inert and motionless; but no heed was paid to that. Animated by the doctor's example, aunt and niece laboured on in silence, while the boat rocked from their efforts, and the water that had streamed from the garments of the doctor and his patient washed to and fro. It was a strange freight for a pleasure-boat as it floated swiftly down with the stream, passing no one on that solitary portion of the river; though had they encountered scores no further help could have been rendered than that which friend was giving to friend. For the doctor's face was purple with his exertions, and the great drops of perspiration stood now side by side with the water that still trickled from his crisp hair. "Don't slacken," he cried cheerily. "I've brought fellows to, after being four or five times as long under water, in the depth of winter too. We shall have a flicker of life before long, I'll be sworn. Is he still as cold? I can't stop to feel." Aunt Sophia laid her hand upon the bare white chest of her nephew in the region of his heart; and then, as her eyes met the doctor's her lips tightened just a little--that was all. "Too soon to expect it yet.--Don't be despondent, Lady Scarlett. Be a brave, true little wife. That's right." He nodded at her so encouragingly, that, in the face of what he was doing, Lady Scarlett felt that all little distance between them was for ever at an end, and that she had a sister's love for this gallant, earnest man. "Where are we?" he said at last, toiling more slowly now, from sheer exhaustion. "Very nearly down to the cottage," replied Prayle; and the doctor muttered an inaudible "Thank God!" It was not loud enough for wife or aunt to hear, or it would have carried with it a despair far greater than that they felt. "Can you run her into the landing-place?" "I'll try," said Prayle, but in so doubting a tone, that the doctor uttered a low ejaculation, full of impatient anger, and Kate Scarlett looked up.