"But, Lisbeth," I stammered, "could you still love me--even--even if, through my folly, the worst should happen and we--we----"
"I don't think I shall be so very much afraid, Dick, if you will hold me close like this," she whispered.
The voice of the weir had swelled into a roar by now, yet I paid little heed; for me, all fear was swallowed up in a great wondering happiness.
"Dick," she whispered, "you will hold me tight, you will not let me go when--when----"
"Never," I answered; "nothing could ever take you from me now."
As I spoke I raised my eyes, and glancing about beheld something which altered the whole aspect of affairs--something which changed tragedy into comedy all in a moment--a boat was coming slowly round the bend.
"Lisbeth, look up!" With a sigh she obeyed, her clasp tightening on mine, and a dreadful expectation in her eyes. Then all at once it was gone, her pale cheeks grew suddenly scarlet, and she slipped from my arms; and thereafter I noticed how very carefully her eyes avoided mine.
The boat came slowly into view, impelled by one who rowed with exactly that amount of splashing which speaks the true-born Cockney. By dint of much exertion and more splashing he presently ranged alongside in answer to my hail.
"W'ot--a haccident then?" he inquired.
"Something of the sort," I nodded. "Will you be so kind as to tow us to the bank yonder?"