She beat the water with her hands, and clutched at it, and tried to push it back.
Slowly but softly the water continued to rise, and she could lift her head no higher, for it was even then against the under side of the floor above her.
The water was at her lips now—not a ripple, but the whole body was on a level with them.
She closed her lips, but a minute later it filled her nostrils when she breathed.
Out of her very desperation was now born a singular calmness and self-possession.
She was now able to think and reason as she could not have done before.
It is singular but true that in the face of death many people, in times of lesser danger absolute cowards, become brave and calm as any one can be.
So it was with Helen.
Whether or not she was to be drowned like a rat she did not know.
But she did know that her situation was a precarious one.