“Oh, George,” she said before they retired for the night, “you don’t think anything more could have been done, do you? It was quite impossible to save him, was it not?”
A faint smile passed over the tired face of the man who had to all intents and purposes sacrificed his own life in the attempt to save John Bond, who had been as dead as he so far as his own sensations were concerned.
“I did what I could,” he answered simply.
Mamie looked keenly into his eyes, as she bade him good-night. Her mother was already at the door.
“You love Constance Fearing still,” she said in a tone that could not reach Totty’s ears.
“I hope not,” George answered with sudden coldness.
“When you opened your eyes, you said ‘Constance’ quite distinctly. We both heard it.”
“Did I? That was very foolish. The next time I am drowned in the presence of ladies I will try and be more careful.”
CHAPTER XXI.
The sudden death of John Bond caused an interruption in the lives of most of the people concerned in this history. George Wood had received one of those violent mental impressions from which men do not recover for many weeks. It was long before he could rid his dreams of the ever-repeated scene. When he closed his eyes the white sail of the little cutter rose before them, the sharp and sudden squall struck the canvas, and almost at the same instant he felt himself once more in the cool depths, struggling with a man already almost dead, striving with agonised determination to hold his breath, then abandoning the effort and losing consciousness, only to awake with a violent start and a short, smothered cry.