"Frank is not there," she said. "Where has he gone?"
Leycester looked up smiling.
"You are a sister to him!" he said. "He must have wandered down the bank. He is all right."
Then he looked down the river, and a sudden light came into his eyes.
"The foolish boy," he said. "He has gone on to the weir."
"The weir!" exclaimed Stella.
"Don't be frightened," he said. "He is all right. He is standing on the wooden stage over the weir."
Stella looked round.
"He will fall!" she said. "Isn't it very dangerous?"
It did look dangerous. Frank had climbed on to the weir bars and was standing over a narrow beam, his legs apart, his eyes fixed on the big float which danced in the foaming water.