Then he had reached Guy, was bending over him, raising him with urgent hands. He saw the boy's face for a moment, ashen in the flickering candlelight, and he knew that the task before him was one which it would take his utmost strength to accomplish. But he exerted it and dragged him to his feet, half-supporting, half-carrying, him towards the open door, Sylvia helping on the other side. The thought went through him that this was the last act that they would perform in partnership. And somehow he knew that she would remember it later in the same way. They reached the threshold. Guy was stumbling blindly. He seemed to be dazed, scarcely conscious of his surroundings. The turmoil of the water was terrific through the ceaseless rush of the rain. With heads bent to the storm they forced their way out into the tumult. They found Diamond tramping and snorting with fright at the back of the hut, but to Burke's brief command and Sylvia's touch he stood still. "Get up!" Burke said to the girl. But she started and drew back. "Oh no--no!" she cried back to him. "I will go on foot." He said no more, merely turned and hoisted Guy upwards. He landed in the saddle, instinctively gripping with his knees while Burke on one side, Sylvia on the other, set his feet in the stirrups. Then still in that utter silence Burke went back to Sylvia. He had lifted her before she was aware, and for one breathless moment he held her. Then she also was up on the horse's back. He thrust her hands away from him, pushing them into Guy's belt with a mastery that would brook no resistance. "Wake up!" he yelled to Guy, and smote him on the thigh as he dragged the bridle free. Then, slipping and sliding on the yielding ground, he pulled the horse round, gave the rein, into Guy's clutching hand, and struck the animal smartly on the flank. Diamond squealed and sprang forward bearing his double burden, and in a moment he was off, making for the higher ground and the track that led to the farm, terrified yet blindly following the instinct that does not err. The sound of the scrambling, struggling hoofs was lost in the strife of waters, the swaying figures disappeared in the gloom, and the man who was left behind turned grimly and went back into the empty hut. The candle still cast a flickering light over table and bed. He stood with his back to the raging night and stared at the unsteady flame. It was screened from extinction in the draught by a standing photograph-frame. The picture this contained was turned away from him. After a moment it caught his attention. He moved round the table. Though Death were swooping towards him, swift and certain, on the wings of the rising current, he was drawn as a needle to the magnet. Like a dying man, he reached for the last draught that should slake his thirst and give him peace in dying.