On and on shot the little skiff over the sun-kissed waves, heading toward the fatal spot where the alluring lilies lay so white and pure on the bosom of the lake.
“Oh, merciful God! if he would but hear, and heed me!” sobbed Jess, wildly. “Why will he not?”
But the waves that babbled on the green, mossy bank at her feet, and the wind sighing among the boughs of the trees over her head had no answer for her.
Another moment and he would be within reach of the lilies. The girl’s brain reeled and a deathly faintness stole over her, as she watched every motion of the oars as they rose and fell, catching the gold of the sunshine and carrying it down with them into the water’s dark depth.
Standing there, with strained eyes, she saw him reach for the lilies: then—all in an instant—boat and boatman were suddenly swallowed up in the seething underground whirlpool, disappearing from sight, and not even a ripple marred the spot to show where he had gone down—down to death among the beautiful, shining, white water lilies that he had risked sweet life for at her command!
CHAPTER XXII.
THE RESCUE.
“The dream is over, and I stand
Alone upon the sun-kissed shore;
My heart is lone—empty each hand;
My love comes here no more.