"Then please take me back at once," she said.
"I would with pleasure," I returned, "only that you forgot to bring the oars."
"Why, then, we are adrift!" she said, staring at me with frightened eyes, and clasping her hands nervously.
"We are," I nodded; "but, then, it's perfect weather for boating, Lisbeth!" and I began to look about for something that might serve as a paddle. But the stretchers had disappeared long since--the old tub was a sheer hulk, so to speak. An attempt to tear up a floor board resulted only in a broken nail and bleeding fingers; so I presently desisted, and, rolling up my sleeves, endeavoured to paddle with my hands; but, finding this equally futile, I resumed my coat, and took out pipe and tobacco.
"Oh, Dick, is there nothing you can do?" she asked, with a brave attempt to steady the quiver in her voice.
"With your permission, I'll smoke, Lisbeth."
"But the weir!" she cried. "Have you forgotten the weir?"
"No," I answered, shaking my head; "it has a way of obtruding itself on one's notice----"
"Oh, it sounds hateful--hateful!" she said with a shiver.
"Like a strong wind among trees!" I nodded, as I filled my pipe. We were approaching a part of the river where it makes a sharp bend to the right; and well I knew what lay beyond--the row of posts, painted white, with the foam and bubble of seething water below. We should round that bend in about ten minutes, I judged; long before then we might see a boat, to be sure; if not--well, if the worst happened, I could but do my best; in the meantime I would smoke a pipe; but I will admit my fingers trembled as I struck a match.