"Oh, Jess, Don's in too!" gasped Maggie, faint with terror. Jessie's heart stood still. In the darkness of the shadow Donald's figure was scarcely discernible to her terrified gaze.
"Oh, he's gone down," she cried; "if he drowns I'll die!" She tore herself from Maggie's grasp and shot down the stream calling for help.
As Donald reached cautiously forward and clutched the drowning man in an iron grip, Jessie's cry of terror floated out to him. He never dreamed of applying the words to himself. In the whirl of the moment he scarcely grasped their meaning. That came to him later with overwhelming force. With all his strength he was struggling to draw his burden up on the ice. But already Jessie had returned with assistance; another rail was being propelled towards the dangerous spot, another pair of strong arms were stretched out and in a few moments the young minister was dragged back, unconscious, into safety.
The next morning brought to John Egerton a vivid recollection of the last night's events. His first impulse was to get out of his bed and go straight to Donald and thank him from the bottom of his full and humble heart. But Mrs. McNabb sat at his side, sympathetic but inexorable. He was not to move out of his bed that day, she commanded; Mrs. Fraser had left instructions to that effect. The helpless prisoner appealed to Peter Junior. That young man came into the room before going to his work to see if his hero had quite recovered. "See what your mother's doing to me, Pete," he complained, half laughingly. "I'm as well as you are, and she won't let me get up. I want to see Donald. He pulled me out all alone, didn't he?"
Peter Junior was a garrulous youth of seventeen indiscreet summers. He was enthusiastic over Donald's courageous deed. "You just bet he did, Mr. Egerton!" he cried, seating his blacksmith's overalls on the minister's immaculate white counterpane, too eager to notice that his mother was telegraphing frantic disapproval. "You just bet! Mack Fraser got there in time to give a little pull, but Don did the most of it. Say! but it was fine though! All the fellows 'round said it was jist nip an' tuck for about a minit whether he'd go in himself or not!"
"It was simply splendid of him!" cried the minister warmly. "I shall never be able to thank him."
Mrs. McNabb left the room for a few minutes and her son became confidential.
"Say, though," he exclaimed sympathetically, "all the fellows was sayin' last night it must be kind o' awkward for you, havin' Don pull you out. They're all wonderin' how Jessie Hamilton'll take it."
If Mrs. McNabb had happened to take her patient's temperature at that moment she would have been highly alarmed. But it was impossible to resent Peter's blundering sympathy.
"Where's Donald?" he asked, with an effort. "I must see him."