By this time more than one swimmer was in the water diving for the drowning man. Minutes which seemed hours passed, and then amidst the crowds of excited spectators Arthur Franklyn's apparently lifeless body was drawn from the water, hastily placed in a cab, and carried off across London Bridge to Guy's Hospital.
But the carpet bag had sunk to the bottom, to be drawn up weeks after by the Thames' searchers; while in one corner, soaked into a pulp by the action of the water, lay the fatal document which had brought upon Arthur Franklyn such terrible results.
CHAPTER XXX.
UNCONSCIOUS RIVALS.
June again at Oxford, and the year for grand Commemoration is again attracting numbers to the famous old city.
Three years have passed since Charles Herbert walked down the High Street with his friend Horace Wilton on his way to the station to meet Mary Armstrong.
The Fellow of Balliol is now wandering in Christ Church meadows with another very old friend, whom he is vainly trying to persuade to remain at Oxford till after Commemoration.
"You have seen so little of the place, Reginald," said Horace; "and if you have decided to exchange into a regiment going to India, you should not miss being present for once on such an occasion."
"It's no use, Horace," was the reply, free from the "aw-aw" so detrimental to Reginald Fraser's speech when addressing ladies, or suffering from nervousness. "It's no use; I couldn't remain now after all you told me last evening about Miss Armstrong's visit; perhaps she may be at Oxford again this year, and I wouldn't meet her for the world. How strange it seems that you should be acquainted with her."