Twenty minutes later Simon Snell and the innkeeper carried Margaret Bowden between them on a hurdle. Mr. Shillabeer’s coat covered the corpse. They proceeded slowly and at last came in sight of ’Meavy Cot.’ "I’ll go so far as the wicket," said Snell; "but no further. I couldn’t face that chap--not with this load." "’Tis I that have been told off for the purpose. ’Tis I that have found her, though ’pon a very different errand, I assure you. Yet not different neither, Simon, for I went to meet death; and when I looked down in the water, there was death, sure enough, glazing up at me." "And yet just as if she was no more than sound asleep--poor young woman--save for the blueness," said Mr. Snell. "And so she looked, poor creature, when first I seed her. But death be the name for sleep under water." "What was you doing up over, ’Dumpling’?" "There again! The ways of the Lord be past finding out, Simon. My wife waiting at the golden gate--waiting and watching for the sight of a certain man--namely me--and instead this young Margaret comes along." "My word!" said Mr. Snell. "Was you going for to make away with yourself, Mr. Shillabeer? Please don’t say so, for I’ve had as much as I can stand this morning. I’m quivering to my innermost inwards." "I was going to do it; but not now--not now. Abraham found a ram in a thicket, you’ll remember; I find a woman in the water. The Lord works with strange tools, Snell." "Without a doubt He do; and here’s the gate. I’ll take her no further. David Bowden can come out and lend a hand hisself now." "And you’d best to let it be known far and wide," said Shillabeer. "And doctor ought to see her, though of course no good. Still ’tis the fashion. And crowner will sit--here’s the man!" David Bowden appeared and Simon Snell ran away. For a moment Shillabeer set himself between the dead and living. "’Tis I found her--Madge. She’s gone to glory--she’s drownded herself--dead. Lord’s will, David." "Found! Thank God--where?" asked the husband. He had only heard the word ’Madge.’ "If you can thank God, ’tis a good thing, Bowden. ’Twas long afore I could, when this happened to me," answered the other. "Come. She’s here--behind the edge of the wall. ’Twas the best I could do." David had passed him, and when Shillabeer turned, the husband knelt beside the hurdle. A moment later he tore at the clothing of the corpse and pressed his hand over her heart. "Us must go for doctor as a matter of form, and he’s at Princetown to-day--his day there from eleven o’clock till two--so I’ll traapse up over and tell him to call. And I’ll ax you for a dry shirt afore I start, poor man." "She’s dead!" said Bowden. "And cold. There’s nought in all nature so cold as them that die by drowning. But you must think of her as far ways off from here." "Dead--dead. God help me!" He rose to his feet and stared down.