"No time to ask that now," was the answer; "for God's sake, carry her to yonder barge!"
Without hesitation Reginald proceeded to obey. He noticed how light she was and how thin too the face was which rested on his shoulder. For a second he almost doubted whether it could be Agnes, the girl who had skated so merrily with him on the lake at Hampton Court.
It was a good ten minutes before they reached the barge. The woman had run on in front, slipped down the bank, and, notwithstanding the weight of the child in her arms, had leapt into the barge. Reginald followed her example.
"We must put off," she said, "or the soldiers will be after us."
"There is no fear whilst I am with you," said Reginald, as he laid Agnes down on a wooden bench. "Get some water." But it was not needed, for of herself Agnes opened her eyes, and, seeing Reginald stooping over her, a smile of wonderful sweetness lighted up her face, and, holding out her hands to him, she said:
"I am so glad, so glad!"
He could not answer her, but, taking both her hands in his, he kissed them, not once but thrice. She blushed rosy red and sat up.
"Is it not wonderful," she said, "wonderful that you should save me?"
"Yes, it is wonderful--God's will," said Reginald; "but how on earth are you here? I thought you were in England, up north somewhere."
"I wish I could get there now," said Agnes, tears filling her eyes, "But you will take me, take me now at once!"