And then, all at once, some instinct caused the young man to wheel sharply round, to see, a long way back from the others, Varick standing solitary on the brick path.
His companion had vanished. It was as if the earth had swallowed her up.
"Where's Bubbles?" shouted Donnington.
But Varick, still standing in the middle of the path, did not look as if he heard Donnington's question. The young man set off running towards him.
"What's happened?" he cried fiercely. "Where's Bubbles, Varick?"
Varick was ashen; and he looked dazed—utterly unlike his usual collected self.
"She stumbled—and went over the side of the embankment. She's in the water, down there," he said at last, in a hoarse, stifled voice.
Donnington turned quickly, and stared down into the grey water. He could see nothing—nothing! He threw off his coat.
"Was it just here?"
He looked at Varick with a feeling of anguished exasperation; it was as if the horror and the shock had congealed the man's mental faculties.