"I think that would scarcely be safe, Mr. William; the weather has moderated a great deal since nightfall, and I rather think the ice may be weak."
"Pooh! nonsense! fiddle-de-dee!" exclaimed the other traveler, testily; "do you think, old driveler, that a few hours of moderate weather could weaken, effectually, the ice of a river that has been hard frozen for a week? Why, at this moment a coach might be driven across with perfect safety!"
"I shouldn't like to try it, though, sir," said the driver, who entered at this moment.
"The gentleman can try it, if he likes," continued the old man, with a grin, "but I do hopes Mr. Dulan won't."
"Why, the ice will certainly bear a foot-passenger safely across," smiled William Dulan.
"I dare say it may; but, at any rate, I wouldn't try it, Master William—'specially as it's a long, dark, slushy road between here and the widow's."
"Why, Uncle Ben, do you think I am a young chicken, to be killed by wetting my feet?" asked William, laughing. "Besides, at this very moment, my good mother is waiting for me, and has a blazing fire, a pot of strong coffee, and a bowl of oysters, in readiness. I would not disappoint her, or myself, for a good deal."
"If it were not for this confounded lameness in my feet, I would not stop at this vile hole to-night," said the elder traveler, who was no other than Richard Delany, whom imperative business had called to this part of the country, and who had thus become, very reluctantly, the traveling companion of William Dulan.
"Nobody asked you, sir," exclaimed the old man, who did not seek popularity.
William Dulan, who by this time had resumed his cloak, and received a lighted lantern from the old ferryman, took his way to the river, accompanied by the latter. Arrived at its edge, he turned, shook hands with the old man, and stepped upon the ice. Old Ben remained, with his eyes anxiously strained after the light of the lantern as it was borne across the river. It was already half-way across—suddenly a breaking sound, a fearful shriek, a quenched light, and all was dark and still upon the surface of the ice; but beneath, a young, strong life was battling fiercely with death. Ah! who can tell the horrors of that frightful struggle in the dark, cold, ice-bound prison of the waters?