“But how did it happen?—where am I?”
“By the lake.”
“Ah! I remember. I was drowning. I felt it all—the choking—the struggle—the water in my ears and eyes! It was a dreadful feeling. How did I come here? Who saved me?”
“Ned Hinkley brought you to land, but he was helped by his cousin William, who assisted the stranger.”
“The stranger? ah! yes, I remember: but where is he?”
She looked around wildly and anxiously, and beholding William Hinkley at a little distance, busy with the still unconscious form of Stevens, a quick, fearful shudder passed over her frame. She almost crouched into the old man's arms as she asked, in husky accents—
“He is not dead—he lives?”
“I hope so. He breathes.”
She waited for no more, but, starting to her feet, she staggered to the spot where Stevens lay. The old man would have prevented her.
“You are feeble; you will do yourself harm. Better, if you are able to walk, hurry homeward with me, when you can change your clothes.”