"Oh, pray--pray save me!" murmured Isa, faintly, as a cold chill shot through her, and her pale face grew almost ghastly. "With Heaven's help I will!" exclaimed Brace, thickly, "or I'll die with you!" The words seemed to be forced from his lips by his strong emotion, and he could perceive that she heard them. He knew, too, that she had recognised him at the first. The words took their impassioned tone, in spite of himself; and he repented, as he saw a faint flush of colour--it might have been from indignation--rise to her cheeks. But there was no time for dallying with thoughts of such engendering, for he knew that every moment only robbed him of so much power, and he prepared for another effort. "Hold me tightly," he said. "Don't be afraid; only let me have both hands at liberty, so that I may be able to drag myself out." She did as he wished, and he struggled hard; but the weight clinging to him frustrated every effort, and after five minutes' vain expenditure of strength, Brace had great difficulty in finding firm hold for his grasp; while his heart sank, as he found that what at first had seemed but a trifling mishap, and an opportunity for displaying his knight-errantry, now began to loom forth in proportions ominous to them both. He looked in every direction now, where the tall reeds did not shut out the view, for he was beginning to mistrust his own power; but there was not a soul within sight. And now, for the first time, he raised his voice, to cry loudly for help--despairingly, though, for he could not think it possible that aid could be near. He called again and again; but his voice seemed to be lost in the vast space, and sounded faint, adding to the chill of despair creeping to his heart; till, rousing himself, after regaining his breath, he adopted the plan that he should have tried at first. "Miss Gernon!--Isa! For Heaven's sake, speak!" he cried, earnestly, as he gazed at the half-closed eyes and the drooping head. "Try and rouse yourself for one more effort!" She heard his words, and her eyes unclosed, and rested upon his for an instant. "That's right!" he cried, joyfully. "Now, quick! loose your hold of me! Don't cling, but take hold here of these reeds where my hand is, and hold there tightly for a few moments. I can, then, perhaps, get out, and draw you after me: I am quite powerless here. Can you hold on for half a minute?" Isa's pale lips parted, but no audible words came. She obeyed him, though, and he guided her cold, white hand to the sharp-edged leaves.