Suddenly a third figure shot from the group of skaters,—the fastest skater of them all, and the one boy in the world whom Jack Smalley loved,—his own cousin, Nelson Smalley.
He, too, had turned his eyes and seen in what fatal direction the chair with the delicate, golden-haired invalid in it was tending. He did not speak a word: he had but one thought,—to reach Ralph Rosenburgh in time to save him. He skated on, with the swiftness of light. And Jack Smalley saw him coming, nearing him, passing him, on toward the thin ice. Now, indeed, he shrieked at the top of his voice,—
"Nell, Nell, come back. The ice out there is thin. Come back—come back. Don't you hear?"
"I hear," floated backward on the wind from the flying figure; "I hear, but don't you see Rosenburgh? I must save him."
Then Jack himself skated after, making what speed he might. But he seemed to himself slow as a snail; and already Rosenburgh was very near the treacherous ice, and Nelson was almost up with him, flying like the wind. He heard Nelson's voice:
"Stop, Rosenburgh, stop. The ice beyond you is just a crust. Stop, you will be drowned."
And then he heard a plash, and looked. It was Nelson, who had gone on, and gone under, unable to arrest, in time, his own headlong speed. And then, while he himself was shrieking madly for help, he saw Rosenburgh, prince's feathers and all, just throw himself out of his chair, and down into the cold, seething water where Nelson Smalley had gone under.
The ice grew thin suddenly, just where the saw had cut it squarely away, so the chair stood still upon the solid ice, and by that Rosenburgh held with one hand, while with the other he grasped the long hair of Nelson Smalley, who was rising for the first time. Excitement was giving him unnatural strength, but for how long could he hold on?
Now, at last, the skaters had perceived the real state of the case, and such a wail as one might hear afterwards through his dreams for ever, went up to the bending sky. Hurry, all who can. Run, iron-gray man, as you never ran before, or how shall you drive home to that boy's waiting mother?