Maggie had gone away to live at her brother Sandy's cottage soon after her return, and he might not even go down and see her now.
Meanwhile, Brian kept the knife that really belonged to Jeff, for Uncle Hugh had not given back the delinquent's implement. It seemed to Jeff that his cousin took delight in parading his possession and assuming innocence. He went out of his way to assert his virtue.
One evening, watching the waning light from an upstairs window, Jeff saw a little skiff shoot out into the open space of water, not shadowed by the hills. There was a little figure in it. Here was a glorious opportunity to go down and tell Uncle Hugh and establish his own truth. For a few seconds a conflict went on in his breast, and then with a heavy sigh he laid his head on the window sill and burst into passionate sobbing. When it was almost dark the fit of weeping had passed off. But he remained at the open window, breathing the balmy air. Suddenly he was startled by a cry from the water. In vain his eyes sought to pierce the gathering gloom. Again the cry. Forgetting all restrictions, with a sudden uncontrollable impulse, he rushed down the stairs and out into the garden to the lake side.
CHAPTER V.
"Papa, papa! oh, come quickly! There's some one drowning in the lake. And oh! I was standing in the hall when Jeff rushed down-stairs and out of the front door, with his face all white and his eyes staring. He must have seen from upstairs—he was standing at the window, you know. Oh papa, perhaps it is Brian; he never came in to tea."
Little Jessie, with eyes distended and panting breath, astonished Mr. Colquhoun and her mother by the unusual impropriety of bursting open the dining-room door at dinner-time. In a moment her father was on his feet and out of the door, followed by the butler and footman. A presentiment of how it had all happened flashed upon him as he hurried down to the edge of the water. There were cries, muffled cries, growing gradually fainter, and splashes as though of some one struggling; a scream, and then what seemed an ominous silence.
It did not take a minute to launch a boat, and row out a few yards from the shore. An upturned skiff told its tale of a repeated disobedience. Clinging to it by one hand was Jeff, with the other he gripped Brian's hair; but his little hand had just relaxed its hold as Mr. Colquhoun approached. The effort to hold up his cousin had taxed his strength to the utmost, and unconsciousness stole over him at the moment of rescue.
They were both saved. In five minutes, time the butler and footman had carried in the two insensible forms and laid them safely on the rug in the library.
It was not long before Brian gave signs of life. A gasp, a sigh, a fluttering breath, and his eyes opened to see his mother hanging over him. They wandered round the room and saw his father watching beside Jeff for some sign of returning consciousness.