To stay where he was seemed impossible, so, swimming a few yards, he made to where--partly to rest, partly to think upon the best plan of procedure--he could tightly grasp a tuft of rushes with his disengaged hand. But even this was no safeguard, for he could feel that a very slight effort would be required to draw the tuft from its hold. And now, for the first time, he turned to gaze earnestly in the pallid face so close to his, to find the eyes dilate and horror-stricken, while two little hands were tightly clasped round his neck. "Do not be alarmed, Miss Gernon," he whispered, his heart throbbing almost painfully the while. "Give me a few moments to recover breath, and then I will draw you ashore--or rather," he said, with an encouraging smile, "on to this treacherous moss." The smile was intended to chase away the dread of there being imminent danger, and it had its effect. "I am not very--very much frightened," she half sobbed, though, unable to conceal her agitation, she clung to him tightly. "I was picking marsh flowers when the rushes suddenly gave way beneath my feet." "The place is very dangerous," said Brace; and then, in an earnest voice--"Thank Heaven, though, that I was so near at hand." He paused for a few moments to gaze in her face, and in that brief space of time danger--the water--all was forgotten as their eyes met, for hers to fall directly before his loving, earnest look. For there, in spite of what he had said, in great peril, but with her heart beating against his, so that he could feel its pulsations, all Brace Norton's resolutions faded away; and for a moment he thought of how sweet it would be to die thus--to loose his hold of the rushes, to clasp his other arm round her, and then, with an end to all the sorrow and heart-burning of this life, with her clinging to him as she might never cling again, to let the water close above their heads, and then-- "What a romantic fool I am," thought Brace. "Here, a month ago, I thought life one of the jolliest things in the world; and now I'm thinking in this love-sick, unhealthy, French, charcoal-and-brimstone style of suicide." The reaction gave his mind tone; for directly after, Brace Norton was thinking how sweet it would be to live, perhaps earning Isa Gernon's love as well as her gratitude, for saving her sweet life; and with a flush upon his cheek for his weak thoughts, Brace nerved himself for the effort he was about to make. With his right hand tightly clutching the rush tuft, he tried to thrust his feet into the bank beneath; but in spite of a tremendous and exhausting effort, the sole result was, that the portion of the edge he clung to came away in his hand, and with the plunge, they were the next instant both beneath the water. A few vigorous strokes, though, and Brace was once more at the side with the half-fainting girl well supported, as a bunch of rushes once more supplied him with a hold for his clinging fingers.