"Ah, Dick," she cried, "how can you treat the matter so lightly when we may be tossing down there in that awful water so very soon? We can never pass that weir without oars, and you know it, and--and--oh, Dick, why did you do it--how could you have been so mad?"
"Do what?" I inquired, staring.
With a sudden gesture she rose to her knees and fronted me.
"This!" she cried, and held up the severed painter. "It has been cut! Oh, Dick, Dick, how could you be so mad?"
"Lisbeth!" I exclaimed, "do you mean to say that you think----"
"I know!" she broke in, and turning away, hid her face in her hands.
We were not so very far from the bend now, and seeing this, a sudden inspiration came upon me, by means of which I might prove her mind towards me once and for all; and as she kneeled before me with averted face, I leaned forward and took her hands in mine.
"Lisbeth," I said, "supposing I did cut the boat adrift, like a--a fool--endangering your life for a mad, thoughtless whim--could you forgive me?"
For a long moment she remained without answering, then very slowly she raised her head.
"Oh, Dick!" was all she said, but in her eyes I read the wonder of wonders.