Neither John nor Adèle made reply, and the woman hurried on. In a few minutes, a sudden turn in the path brought them to the little cove where the boat still lay.
The woman first caught sight of the wan face in the bottom of the boat, and uttered a scream of horror. The lips of the others were frozen into silence by the dread spectacle.
Scarcely a moment seemed to have passed, before John rushed down into the water, reached the boat, raised thence the lifeless form, bore it to the shore and laid the dripping head into the arms of Adèle, who seated herself on the grass to receive it.
"Go quickly", she said to the woman, "go for Dr. Wright. I saw him only a moment ago. Find him and bring him here".
John threw himself upon his knees and began chafing Mr. Somers's hands. "He is dead! he is dead!" he whispered, in a voice, hoarse and unnatural with fear and anxiety.
"Let us hope not", said Adèle in a tone of tenderness. "Perhaps it is only a swoon. We will convey him to some shelter and restore him". And she wrung the rain from his curls of long brown hair.
John's finger was upon Mr. Somers's wrist. "It will break my mother's heart", he said, in the same hoarse whisper. At that moment, Dr. Wright's voice was heard. He placed himself, without a word, upon the grass, looked at the pale face, unfastened the dripping garments, thrust his hand in beneath them, and laid it upon the young man's heart.
"He is dead!" said Dr. Wright. "Friends, get a bit of canvas and a blanket and take him to some house, till day breaks".
John, stupefied with horror and grief, still knelt by Mr. Somers, chafing his hands and wringing the water from his wet garments. At length, Mr. Dubois gently roused him from his task, telling him they would now remove their friend to a house, where he might be properly cared for.
"Let me lift him", said Micah to the young man. But John shook his head and stooping, raised Mr. Somers and laid him on the canvas as gently as if he were a sleeping infant.