They were at the water's edge now and holding the lamp low down, they could see the wheel tracks through the damp, short grass on the bank and the broken rushes where the car had taken its plunge.
The river was deep there, but if it had been half the depth the danger would have been almost as great, for Chris knew that the car 285 would in all probability have turned over had it been going even at a moderate speed. He flung off his coat and, making a cup of his hands, shouted into the darkness:
"Hullo! Hullo!" And the same terrified voice cried in answer, only weaker now, and choking, as if already the silent flowing water had begun to take its toll.
Chris caught up the strap. He fastened one end round his wrist and gave the other to the man, who stood shaking and helpless beside him:
"Here! Take this, and don't let it go! I'm going in!"
He took the plunge through the darkness blindly. The water was icy cold as it closed over his head, and he could feel the rushes and weeds clutching at him as he struggled up to the surface.
He shouted again breathlessly, and the faint cry came again close beside him this time, it seemed.
He struck out desperately, every nerve strained, and then suddenly his hand came into contact with something which at first he thought was a man's arm, but it seemed to slip beneath the water before he could grip it.
He groped round desperately, cursing the darkness, and his fingers caught in the soft silkiness of a woman's hair.
There was no mistaking it this time. Twisting it anyhow about his wrist and arm so she could not slip from him, he turned for the bank again, guided by the strap which still held.