"It's the current that sweeps it round, the force of the water that is coming in under the gates. That doesn't matter so long as we are not caught."

"But the end _is_ caught, isn't it? That little bit of iron that sticks up at the pointed end!" cried Pixie suddenly. She was densely ignorant of all that concerns boats, and invariably alluded to the bow and the stern as the "blunt" and "pointed" ends, to the Captain's intense amus.e.m.e.nt.

This time, however, he did not smile. Pixie saw his face set suddenly as he turned his head to look in the direction of her outstretched finger, but his voice sounded rea.s.suringly confident.

"Oh, I see! Yes. Let me pa.s.s you, dear, for a moment. Sit quite still!"

He stepped past her into the s.p.a.ce occupied by the hampers, and stamped vigorously first with one foot, then with two, jumped with all his weight, then stepped quickly back to the centre of the boat and called to the man at the sluices--

"Hi, there! _Stop_! My boat is caught! Turn off that water! Quick, man, do you hear me!"

But the man's head was turned in the opposite direction, and he was so much engrossed with his work that it was some moments before he heard, and meantime it was terrifying to see how swiftly the water arose, how dangerously near to its edge grew the side of the boat! The children began to shriek and stand on their seats, and the Captain seized Inda in his arms and held her up, calling loudly for help.

The lock-keeper was hurriedly dropping the sluices, but at the sound of the continued cries his wife ran out of the house and across the bridgeway. In another moment she would be able to lift Inda ash.o.r.e; but Viva, frantic with terror, was clamouring to be taken too, and Pixie impetuously lifted her towards the bank.

What happened next it is difficult to describe, so swiftly did it happen, so like a nightmare did it appear for ever after in the memories of those concerned. The woman came rushing forward, followed by her husband; they seized the children and dragged them on the bank.

The boat, relieved suddenly of a weight, gave an unexpected lurch, and the next moment Pixie and the Captain were in the water. The children screamed aloud in terror, but the Captain had hardly disappeared before he was up again, capless, and shaking the water from his head, but looking none the worse for his ducking. But it was a long, agonising minute before there came a swirling and bubbling at the end of the lock, and Pixie's white, unconscious little face floated on the surface. The Captain's arm was round her in an instant, the lock-keeper threw a rope to help him to the iron ladder fixed in the walls of the lock, and between them the two men carried the dripping figure along the bank and into the house.

There was a sofa in an inner room, and there they laid her, while the woman, a.s.sisted by her eldest daughter, took off the wringing garments and wrapped her round with warm blankets and coverings. The Captain ran out into the village, sent a messenger flying for a doctor, and rushed back again in terror lest the two little girls should have taken advantage of his absence to get into fresh mischief.

This was a pretty ending to their expedition! What would Mrs Wallace say to him when he got home, and what should he say to himself if through any fault or carelessness a serious injury had happened to sweet little Mamzelle!

"Why on earth do they want to put these irons at the end of a boat?

Wretched, dangerous things!" cried the distracted man to himself. "To think that I have been through a thousand locks in safety, and that this should have happened just when I had made myself responsible for a party of children! Never again! Never again, if I get safely out of this! I wonder how long that doctor fellow will take to come along?"

Viva and Inda were sitting in the front kitchen, glancing askance at several rosy, curly-headed children who were shyly huddled together by the door. The fascination of new surroundings and possible new playmates had diverted their minds from their misfortunes, and the Captain heaved a sigh of relief as he pa.s.sed into the inner room.

The lock-keeper's wife had filled two bottles with hot water, and put one to Pixie's feet, and another between her cold hands; a towel was wrapped round the wet locks with somewhat ghastly effect, and the young man shivered as he looked down at the still, white face.

"She is not--she can't be--" he faltered, not having the courage to p.r.o.nounce the dread word; and to his inexpressible relief the woman smiled at the thought.

"Not she! Stunned a bit, that's all. Perhaps. .h.i.t her head in falling.

I've often had them like this before, and they are pretty well all right in a few hours. We have a lot of people up here in summertime who know nothing about managing a boat--no offence to you, sir--I daresay you are well accustomed to them, but accidents will happen!"

"I thought I was!" sighed the Captain dismally. He knelt down by the couch, and touched the cold cheek with his fingers. "Feels a little warmer, doesn't she? For goodness' sake, take that thing off her head, I can't bear to see it."

The woman lifted the head from the pillow to unloosen the tight folds, and at the movement Pixie sighed, and opened wide, bewildered eyes. For the first moment they held nothing but blankest surprise at finding herself in so extraordinary a position, but, even as the Captain held his breath in suspense, a spark of remembrance came into the clear depths, and the face lit up with a flickering merriment.

"Were we drowned?" she whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "The two of us?--Viva jumped, and the boat slipped, and my feet went down. Who saved me? Was it you?"

"I suppose it was, but it was not a very heroic rescue--only a few yards to the bank. You are sure you feel all right? Quite warm and comfortable? Your head doesn't ache?"

Pixie shook her dishevelled head from side to side, frowning the while in speculative fashion.

"I think it does--a little bit, but I'm not quite sure. It feels muzzy!" she declared, with a gesture and accent which lent some enlightenment to the enigmatical expression. Then she stretched out a hand, and touched him anxiously on the shoulder. "You're drenched!

You'll catch all sorts of diseases in those wet clothes. Can't you have some blankets too? I'm so lovely and warm."

"My husband is putting out some clothes for you upstairs, sir. You had better go and change. The young lady is all right now, and I will tell you when the doctor comes."

"Doctor! Is a doctor coming? To see me?" Pixie asked, rapturously incredulous.

To find herself the heroine of an adventure, a genuine thrilling adventure, to lie stretched upon a sofa, wrapped in blankets, with two attendants anxiously inquiring her symptoms; to know that a doctor was hurrying to her side--this was indeed a glorious ending to the day's enjoyment! She lay back on the cushions wreathed in smiles, and the doctor, coming in hurriedly, was somewhat taken aback to behold so radiant a patient.

"I fainted!" cried Pixie proudly. "I never fainted before in all my life. I don't remember a single thing after I slipped, until I woke up on this sofa."

"Indeed!--and a very sensible arrangement. Just as well to know nothing about these disagreeable experiences."

The doctor smiled, and fingered her head with a careful touch. "Does that hurt you? No? Does that? Do you feel any tenderness there? A little bit, eh? You don't like me to press it? You probably grazed yourself slightly as you fell, and that caused the 'faint.' Nothing serious, though. You need not be frightened."

"I like it!" said Pixie stoutly, and the burst of laughter with which the two hearers greeted this statement, sounded pleasantly in the Captain's ears as he dressed himself in the lock-keeper's Sunday garments in the room overhead.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

LOVERS' MEETINGS.

The doctor saw no reason why Pixie should not be driven home, and offered to order a closed carriage in the village, and pending its arrival, the adventurers enjoyed another cup of tea, not smoked this time, and made merry over the change in their appearance, wrought by the borrowed clothing.

Pixie's red merino dress was the pride of little Miss Lock-keeper's heart, but about two sizes too big for its present occupant. The bodice hung in folds about her tiny figure, the sleeves came down to her finger-tips; the Captain's shiny black suit made him appear quite clumsy and awkward, but that was all part of the fun, in the estimation of three members of the party, at least.

Mrs Wallace was undecided whether to laugh or to cry as she welcomed her truants and listened to the story of their adventures. Nothing would satisfy her but to despatch Pixie to bed forthwith, to that young lady's intense mortification, and to order the Captain upstairs to have a hot bath and a dose of quinine. When he came downstairs, she was putting a letter in the post-box in the hall, and, motioning towards it, explained its purport.

"I've been writing to Mamzelle's sister in London. These lock accidents get into the papers sometimes, and are generally exaggerated into something really so thrilling and terrible. It's best to tell the true story ourselves."

"And I have brought this trouble upon you! I could kick myself for my stupidity. You will never trust me again, but please make me the scapegoat to the sister, and let her wreak her wrath on me. It's not fair that you should be blamed."

"Oh, I am not afraid of any wrath, I a.s.sure you. She's a charming girl, and as sweet as Mamzelle herself. I have asked her to come down to- morrow and see for herself that there is no harm done. I thought that was the best way out of the difficulty; and please don't blame yourself too much. It was an accident, and we must just be very, very thankful that you were all preserved from harm."

The next morning the Captain took himself off for a long walk, ostensibly to call on some friends, in reality to avoid meeting the visitor from town; for though a man may boldly acknowledge his responsibility and offer to bear the blame, he has an instinctive shrinking from the society of females in distress, and will walk a very long distance in order to avoid anything like a scene.

It seemed the height of bad fortune that this particular visitor should arrive in the afternoon, instead of the morning, and that he should stumble into the library almost immediately after she had arrived. She was seated on an ottoman with her back towards him, but Mrs Wallace's quick exclamation took away any chance of retreating unseen.

"Why, here he is!" she cried. "This is the culprit, or the hero, whichever you choose to call him. Come and tell your own story, d.i.c.k.

This is Mademoiselle's sister, Miss O'Shaughnessy."

But he had recognised her already. She had turned her head as Mrs Wallace spoke, and beneath the curving brim of the hat he had seen the face which had been enshrined in his heart for three long years, the sweet face which had brought to him at once the greatest joy and the bitterest sorrow of his life! He stood still in the middle of the room, staring at her as if suddenly turned to stone, and Bridgie rose to her feet, the pretty colour fading out of her cheeks, her lips a-tremble with emotion.

Mrs Wallace looked from one to the other, and with a woman's intuition divined something very nearly approaching the truth. d.i.c.k was quite changed from his old happy self--everyone had noticed it, and speculated as to the cause. In his last furlough he had stayed some time in Ireland. Could it be--could it possibly be--

"You have met before?" she said quickly. "That is very nice. You know each other, and can talk over yesterday's adventure without my help.

Will you excuse me if I leave you for a few moments, while I give some orders to the maids?"

No one answered, but she lost no time in hurrying from the room, and as the door closed behind her, the Captain came slowly across the room, staring at Bridgie's white face.

"_Miss O'Shaughnessy_! She called you '_Miss O'Shaughnessy_'!"

She shrank before him, scared by his strange, excited manner.