"Brave man!" cried Ellen. "Save him—oh! save him!"
As she uttered these words, she stumbled over the coil of rope which had been used to confine Markham's hands, and which the miscreants had left behind them.
Instantly twining one end round her delicate wrist, she cast the other into the canal; and creeping so far down the bank as nearly to touch the water, she exclaimed, "Here is a rope, Filippo: Richard, try and catch the rope. Speak, Filippo—can you save him? If not, I will myself plunge into the stream—and—"
"He is lost—he is gone!" said Filippo, who was swimming about on the surface of the water as skilfully as if it were his native element.
"Oh, God! do not say that! do not—"
"I see him—I see him, Miss—yonder—down the stream—struggling desperately—"
At that moment a faint cry for help echoed over the bosom of the canal.
Ellen scrambled up the bank, and darted along the margin with the speed of the fawn, dragging the long coil of rope after her.
In a few moments she beheld a black object appear on the surface of the water—then disappear again in an instant.
But Filippo had already gained that part of the stream; and Ellen directed him with her voice to the spot where the object had sunk.