Emily was crying. Mr and Mrs. Rowles looked at each other in an agony. They knew pretty well what must happen to Juliet alone in a boat. She would be carried rapidly down stream, and the current would draw the little bark to the weir, and over the weir, and it would be dashed about by the swirling rush of water, capsized, and its occupant thrown out. And nothing more would be seen of poor Juliet but a white, lifeless body carried home.
Oh, it was too sad to think of!
"What can we do? What can we do? What would her own mother do?"
"Hope for the best, Emma," said Mr. Rowles. "If I had another boat I would send Phil down to look for her. Perhaps the next boat that goes through would let him jump into the bows."
"I might run down the towing-path," said Phil. "I can run pretty quick."
"And if you did see her in the Fairy out in mid-stream, how could you get near enough to help her? No; the only chance will be to ask some of them to take you down in their boat. Here they come; both ways."
The lower gate of the lock was open, so that the boat coming up passed through first. Rowles worked the handles as quickly as he could; standing on the bank while the lock filled he asked the two gentlemen in the boat if they had seen anything of a little girl out by herself on the river.
"No," replied one of the young men; "we only started from just below Littlebourne Ferry. I have noticed no little girl in a boat."
"Nor I," added the other gentleman. "And I think I should have noticed such a person, for little girls don't often go out boating alone."
"And an ignorant London child, too," groaned Mr. Rowles. "And many a time I told her never to think of boating by herself; but she is so obstinate and so stupid, there is no knowing what she has done. And if you gentlemen have not met her, she must have got below Littlebourne Ferry, and then she would be very near Banksome Weir, and there is no saying what has become of her."