A cry broke from Jess’ lips, and her grasp tightened on his hand.
“Courage!” cried the girl. “I will save you! Keep still and let me float you along. I—I am an expert swimmer.”
“No, no! Save yourself!” he cried, white to the lips. “I would only hamper you. I have nothing left in life worth the effort of living for. To you life is sweet; life is everything. Save yourself, girl—never mind me.”
If the girl heard, she did not heed his words, but grasping him the more firmly with one hand, with the other she struck out into the stream again, dragging him with her by main force.
He was sorry that she had undertaken such an herculean task—this slender child—yet he dared not struggle to free himself from her grasp, knowing that it would not only retard her progress, but make it doubly hard for her.
With a courage that was almost superhuman, Jess struck out, dragging her living burden after her.
And with the strength of an Amazon, strength which had been developed by her out-of-door life and daring exploits, the girl passed safely over the mouth of the underground current, which yawned wide to swallow her, and struck out valiantly for the shore.
When she was within a rod or so of the bank, her splendid strength and heroic courage seemed suddenly to fail her, and when within reach of safety by but a few more strokes, she suddenly sank back.
It was at this critical moment that he whom she had thus far brought from a watery grave came to the rescue.
The water was up as far as his neck, but he knew that the danger was past. Catching the lithe form in his arms as she sank backward in the water, he succeeded in bringing her quickly to the shore.