"Oh, I don't know!" I returned, with an a.s.sumption of ease I was very far from feeling; "and then, of course, we are bound to meet a boat or something--"

"But suppose we don't?"

"Oh, well, we aren't there yet--and er--let's talk of fish."

"Ah, d.i.c.k," she cried, "how can you treat the matter so lightly when we may be tossing down there in that awful water so very soon! We can never pa.s.s that weir without oars, and you know it, and--and--oh, d.i.c.k, why did you do it--how could you have been so mad?"

"Do what?" I inquired, staring.

With a sudden gesture she rose to her knees and fronted me.

"This!" she cried, and held up the severed painter. "It has been cut!

Oh, d.i.c.k! d.i.c.k! how could you be so mad."

"Lisbeth!" I exclaimed, "do you mean to say that you think--"

"I know!" she broke in, and turning away, hid her face in her hands. We were not so very far from the bend now, and seeing this, a sudden inspiration came upon me, by means of which I might prove her mind towards me once and for all; and as she kneeled before me with averted face, I leaned forward and took her hands in mine.

"Lisbeth," I said, "supposing I did cut the boat adrift like a--a fool--endangering your life for a mad, thoughtless whim--could you forgive me?"

For a long moment she remained without answering, then very slowly she raised her head:

"Oh, d.i.c.k!" was all she said, but in her eyes I read the wonder of wonders.

"But, Lisbeth," I stammered, "could you still love me--even--even if, through my folly, the worst should happen and we--we--"

"I don't think I shall be so very much afraid, d.i.c.k, if you will hold me close like this," she whispered.

The voice of the weir had swelled into a roar by now, yet I paid little heed; for me all fear was swallowed up in a great wondering happiness.

"d.i.c.k," she whispered, "you will hold me tight, you will not let me go when--when--"

"Never," I answered; "nothing could ever take you from me now." As I spoke I raised my eyes, and glancing about beheld something which altered the whole aspect of affairs--something which changed tragedy into comedy all in a moment--a boat was coming slowly round the bend.

"Lisbeth, look up!" With a sigh she obeyed, her clasp tightening on mine, and a dreadful expectation in her eyes. Then all at once it was gone, her pale cheeks grew suddenly scarlet, and she slipped from my arms; and thereafter I noticed how very carefully her eyes avoided mine.

The boat came slowly into view, impelled by one who rowed with exactly that amount of splashing which speaks the true-born c.o.c.kney. By dint of much exertion and more splashing, he presently ranged alongside in answer to my hail.

"Wo't--a haccident then?" he inquired.

"Something of the sort," I nodded. "Will you be so kind as to tow us to the bank yonder?"

"Hanythink to hoblige!" he grinned, and having made fast the painter, proceeded to splash us to terra-firma. Which done, he grinned again, waved his hat, and splashed upon his way. I made the boat secure and turned to Lisbeth. She was staring away towards the weir.

"Lisbeth," I began.

"I thought just now that--that it was the end!" she said, and shivered.

"And at such times," I added, "one sometimes says things one would not have said under ordinary circ.u.mstances. My dear, I quite understand-quite, and I'll try to forget--you needn't fear."

"Do you think you can?" she asked, turning to look at me.

"I can but try," I answered. Now as I spoke I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw the pale ghost of the dimple by her mouth.

We walked back side by side along the river-path, very silently, for the most part, yet more than once I caught her regarding me covertly and with a puzzled air.

"Well?" I said at last, tentatively.

"I was wondering why you did it, d.i.c.k? Oh, it was mean! cruel! wicked!

How could you?"

"Oh, well"--and I shrugged my shoulders, anathematising the Imp mentally the while.

"If I hadn't noticed that the rope was freshly cut, I should have thought it an accident," she went on.

"Naturally!" I said.

"And then, again, how came you in the boat?"

"To be sure!" I nodded.

"Still, I can scarcely believe that you would willfully jeopardise both our lives--my life!"

"A man who would do such a thing," I exclaimed, carried away by the heat of the moment, "would be a--a--"

"Yes," said Lisbeth quickly, "he would."

"--And utterly beyond the pale of all forgiveness!"

"Yes," said Lisbeth, "of course."

"And," I was beginning again, but meeting her searching glance, stopped. "And you forgave me, Lisbeth," I ended.

"Did I?" she said, with raised brows.

"Didn't you?"

"Not that I remember."

"In the boat?"

"I never said so?"

"Not in words, perhaps, but you implied as much." Lisbeth had the grace to blush.

"Do I understand that I am not forgiven after all?"

"Not until I know why you did such a mad, thoughtless trick," she answered, with that determined set of her chin which I knew so well.