"Dear Sydney, do not leave us," pleaded the Duke.
But Sydney did not move; he only waved a good-by with his hand. He could not speak.
Without a word, Featherstone recrossed, seized Sydney in his arms, and carried him bodily over. Geoffrey pulled in the plank alone, and started for the eighth canal.
Mr. Sydney did not speak; and now he seemed even to gain new strength and speed. He kept up bravely, and even crossed the next canal ahead of the Duke. There now remained but one more.
"Fifty minutes gone," said Geoffrey in a low voice as Featherstone ran over the plank. "That bell rings at ten minutes to six."
"Bravo, Duke!" cried Featherstone, as the old man stepped from the plank. "Come, Sydney."
But Sydney did not come. Instead, when he came up to the canal, he bent down, seized the plank, and pitched it into the deep trench which ran rapidly and carried it off toward the marsh.
"Now go; and God bless you all!" cried Sydney, and he turned back and went toward the prison.
There was no possibility of undoing Sydney's sacrificial work.
"No use waiting," cried Geoffrey. "In seven minutes we shall be missed. God bless you, dear Sydney!"