some twinges of pitying regret.

"I have knowed cases where people, dead from drownding, have been
restored to life," said Roy, as they walked along.

"That you never have," replied Dr. West. "The _apparently_ dead have
been restored; the dead, never."

Panting, breathless, there came up one as they reached Verner's Pride.
He parted the crowd, and threw himself almost upon Rachel with a wild
cry. He caught up her cold, wet face, and passing his hands over it,
bent down his warm cheek upon it.

"Who has done it?" he sobbed. "What has done it? She couldn't have fell
in alone."

It was Robin Frost. Frederick Massingbird drew him away by the arm.
"Don't hinder, Robin. Every minute may be worth a life."

And Robin, struck with the argument, obeyed docilely like a little
child.

Mr. Verner, leaning on his stick, trembling with weakness and emotion,
stood just without the door of the laundry, which had been hastily
prepared, as the bearers tramped in.

"It is an awful tragedy!" he murmured. "Is it true"--addressing Dr.
West--"that you think there is no hope?"

"I am sure there is none," was the answer. "But every means shall be