"Hallo!" exclaimed Baldwin.
The question was, how to get at her? Nigel, in Baldwin's place, would probably have taken a header into the river, without hesitation; but Baldwin was not so impulsive. He was a tolerably capable young man when moved by a sufficient motive, and the dire need of the lady below was evident; still, he had on a brand-new bicycling costume, never worn till that day; and not everybody is willing, without consideration, to sacrifice a brand-new suit of clothes.
It was plain that the lady saw him, and was calling out eager entreaties, broken by sobs. Baldwin paid small regard to what she said. Rescue was of course what she wanted; and the difficulty was how to rescue her without getting wet himself. He reluctantly came to the conclusion that the knickerbockers at least must submit to a ducking.
The road was entirely out of sight; but Baldwin was not afraid of the two carriages going by. He knew that the sight of his bicycle would bring them to a halt.
For two seconds Baldwin debated whether to climb down the bough to Fulvia. He decided against that mode, doubting whether the bough would bear his additional weight, and feeling sure that he could not get the young lady to land by any such means.
"Yes, yes; I'm coming," he called, with cheerful deliberation, as he pulled off his coat. The girl seemed in a desperate hurry, he thought. She was urging something passionately, with hysterical vehemence, but he could not distinguish a word.
Where Fulvia and Ethel had fallen in, the bank was steep. Here, below the tree, it sloped gradually into the river, and Baldwin waded several steps with caution.
"Hallo!" he exclaimed, stopping short, when the stream rose above his waist. "I say! If it isn't—! Why, it is—Miss Rolfe!"
"Save Ethel!" sobbed Fulvia incoherently.
"I wouldn't be so frightened—I really wouldn't, Miss Rolfe," expostulated Baldwin, in a tone of concern. "See, now, couldn't you manage to pull yourself along the bough towards me, just a yard or two?—It's no earthly use speaking to her; she won't hear a word," muttered the young man. "Nothing for it but to swim. I say," raising his voice, "don't you grab me, Miss Rolfe. We don't want to go under together." He had vivid recollections of her conduct on a former occasion, when he had not been the rescuing party.