There was nothing to impede their way for fully half a mile, and there, in a deep curve down in the valley, in a turgid stream still running fast, lay in wild confusion, baulk and beam, rafter and mass of swept-down stone, the relics of the water's prey. In his excitement Willows was the first to reach this pool; but Will was close behind, near enough to stretch out a hand to try an check him as he tore off his coat, rushed to the edge, stepped on to one stone, and leaped to another and another projecting above the surface, before plunging in and swimming towards where a pile of timbers were crushed together with the water foaming by. "What's he going to do?" cried Manners, panting as he came up. "I don't know," cried the boy, wildly. "Oh, Mr Manners, help me--he'll be drowned!" As the boy spoke he followed his father's example, to leap from stone to stone and finally plunge in, trying almost vainly to swim, for the foaming water gave but the poorest support. There were stones, too, everywhere, hewn blocks and others that had been torn from their native beds; but somehow, helped by the stream, Will reached the spot at length where he could see his father, apparently helpless, clinging to the naked roots of a swept-down tree as if for his very life. "Father!" cried the boy, as he anchored himself in turn, and gazing in horror in the staring eyes that met his own. "What shall I do?" he cried. But help was near, and the despairing feeling that was overcoming poor Will died out as the gruff, familiar voice of Manners just behind cried-- "Hold on, Will, lad! That's right! I've got him tight! Why, Willows, man, what's gone wrong?" He whom he addressed turned his eyes slowly to give the speaker an appealing look, and then they closed, the head dropped back, the surging waters swept over the face, and, but for the artist's sturdy arm, it would have gone ill indeed; but the next moment the fainting man's head was raised and rested on the artist's shoulder. "He must be badly hurt, Will. But all right; I've got him safe, and I'll soon take him to the shore." "Here, let me take one side," cried Will. "Nonsense, dear lad! Stay as you are." "I can't," cried Will; "I must help. He is my father, and I must and will!" "That's right, my boy, but on my word you can't. I am a strong man, I believe, but it is all I can do to hold my own. If you leave go you'll be swept away, and your father will be drowned; for I tell you now, I couldn't stop by him and see you go." Will gazed at him blankly, and for a few moments that group in the midst of the tangle of broken timber and jagged root hung together, boy and man staring into each other's eyes.