"Eliza!" he cried. "Be careful! What possessed you to do this?"
"Come away," she gasped. "It's dangerous. The jam—Look!" She pointed down the channel.
He shook his head impatiently.
"Yes!" she pleaded. "Yes! Please! They wouldn't come to warn you—they tried to stop me. You must go ashore." The frightened entreaty in her clear, wide-open eyes, the disorder that her haste had made affected O'Neil strangely. He stared at her, bewildered, doubtful, then steadied her and groped with his free hand for support. He could feel her trembling wretchedly.
"There's no danger, none whatever," he said, soothingly. "Nothing can happen."
"You don't know. The bridge has never been tried. The ice is battering at it, and that jam—if it doesn't burst—"
"But it will. It can't last much longer."
"It's rising—"
"To be sure, but the river will overflow the bank."
"Please!" she urged. "You can do no good here. I'm afraid."