"Had she got down as far as the weir?"
"Just to the first pier which is marked with the word DANGER."
"Oh, Juliet!" cried Philip with a gasp. "If the Fairy had been drawn to the wrong side of that post—"
Mr. Webster looked so grave, and they were all so impressed with a sense of the great peril she had incurred, that Juliet's pride and coldness were broken down for once, and she sat beside Mr. Burnet weeping silently.
"Well, well," said Mrs. Webster, "she is tired, and I daresay hungry, and you had better get her home as quickly as you can. There is heavy rain coming up, and we must be down at Egham by four o'clock if possible. I am afraid we shall be caught by the storm. Philip Rowles, get into this gentleman's boat, and help to take your cousin home."
"And I will look in one day, little girl, and have a talk with you," said the vicar of Littlebourne as he bent to his work and flew down the river, distancing the storm.
Leonard Burnet now took an oar and Roberts took the other, and they rowed hard against wind and current. Mr. Burnet sheltered Juliet and himself as best he could against the rain, which came in heavy, uncertain dashes. Philip had to sit on the planks at their feet, for the stern seat only held two.
"Do tell me, Juliet, all that has happened to you. Did the Fairy go adrift by accident?"
"No," replied Juliet through her muffled sobs.
"Then how did she get unmoored? I do believe she has lost a scull!" Philip added, trying to examine the poor old boat which was being towed behind them. "I can't make out very well, but I think she has lost a scull and her rudder."