“Very well. A person may sometimes have the right to do a thing, and yet be very foolish in exercising that right.”
“I accept your warning,” said the artist, “and reserve my right.”
“What time is it, do you think?” she asked him.
“I haven’t the least idea,” he replied; “my watch has stopped. That case was warranted to resist water, but I doubt if it has done so.”
“Don’t you think that if the men managed to save themselves they would have been here by this time?”
“I am sure I don’t know. I have no idea of the distance. Perhaps they may have taken it for granted we are drowned, and so there is one chance in a thousand that they may not come back at all.”
“Oh, I do not think such a thing is possible. The moment Mr. Mason heard of the disaster he would come without delay, no matter what he might believe the result of the accident to be.”
“Yes, I think you are right. I shall try to get out on this point and see if I can discover anything of them. The moon now lights up the river, and if they are within a reasonable distance I think I can see them from this point of rock.”
The artist climbed up on the point, which projected over the river. The footing was not of the safest, and Miss Sommerton watched him with some anxiety as he slipped and stumbled and kept his place by holding on to the branches of the overhanging trees.
“Pray be careful, Mr. Trenton,” she said; “remember you are over the water there, and it is very swift.”