one, of the women had her arm round the other, supporting her. We
brought our skiff close to the swirling current. I called out words of
encouragement, and was preparing to jump into the water, when Roscoe
exclaimed in a husky voice: "Marmion, it is Mrs. Falchion."

Yes, it was Mrs. Falchion; but I had known that before. We heard her
words to her companion: "Justine, do not look so. Your face is like
death. It is hateful."

Then the craft veered towards the smoother water where we were. This was
my opportunity. Roscoe threw me a rope, and I plunged in and swam
towards the boat. I saw that Mrs. Falchion recognised me; but she made
no exclamation, nor did Justine Caron. Their companion, however, on the
other side of the boat, was eloquent in prayers to be rescued. I caught
the bow of the boat as it raced past me, and with all my strength swung
it towards the smoother water. I ran the rope I had brought, through the
iron ring at the bow, and was glad enough of that; for their lives
perhaps depended on being able to do it. It had been a nice calculation
of chances, but it was done. Roscoe immediately bent to the oars, I
threw an arm around Justine, and in a moment Roscoe had towed us into
safer quarters. Then he drew in the rope. As he did so, Mrs. Falchion
said: "Justine would drown so easily if one would let her."

These were her first words to me. I am sure I never can sufficiently
admire the mere courage of the woman and her presence of mind in danger.
Immediately afterwards she said--and subsequently it seemed to me
marvellous: "You are something more than the chorus to the play this
time, Dr. Marmion."

A minute after, and Justine was dragged into our boat, and was followed