“He cried out, ‘Try and swim toward the shore! Try hard!’ And I tried, but was carried along so fast that I seemed to make no headway. Then I saw him run on ahead, pull off his shoes and outer clothes, slide down the bank and shoot out into the water toward me.”
“Bravo!” exclaimed the listener. “Bravo! That was splendid!” And in her enthusiasm she rose, and sat down again.
Elinor sank back in her chair. But the Princess was leaning forward with wide open eyes and parted lips.
“Then what happened?”
“He reached me, caught me with one hand by my dress between the shoulders, and told me again to swim hard for the shore. It seemed hopeless, at first, for the current was frightful–oh, frightful! It washed us under and tried to carry us out again. But Pats pushed hard, 202and after an awful struggle–it seemed a lifetime–we we reached the shore.”
“Ah, good!”
But in the speaker’s face there came no enthusiasm. She closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair as if from physical weakness. The Princess got up, and once more came and stood by the girl’s chair, and gently patted a shoulder.
“Tell me the rest later. There is no haste.”
“I shall feel better for telling it now. I started to climb up the bank. It was steep, all stones and gravel, and a few little bushes. The stones gave way and kept letting me down–slipping backward. He was still in the water. I heard him tell me to go slow and not hurry. He was very calm, and his voice came up from beneath me, for–” and here she laughed, a little hysterical laugh–more of a sob than a laugh, as if from over-taxed nerves–“for I seemed to be sitting on his head.”
The Princess also laughed, responsively.