Mr. Sharp, the teacher with whom Guy had been talking, and some of the boys, got a strong rope, and running down the stream, threw it out on the water just above the falls, where Guy could reach it if he could get so near the shore—­if!

The water was very deep where Hetty had fallen in, and the river ran fast.  It was sweeping the poor child on, and Dick Osgood threw himself upon the bridge, and sobbed and screamed.  When she rose the third time, she was near the falls.  A moment more and she would go over, down on the jagged, cruel rocks beneath.

But that time Guy Morgan caught her—­caught her by her long, glistening, golden hair.  Mr. Sharp shouted to him.  He saw the rope, and swam toward it, his strong right arm beating the water back with hammer-strokes—­his left motionless, holding his white burden.

“O God!” Mr. Sharp prayed fervently, “keep him up, spare his strength a little longer, a little longer!” A moment more and he reached the rope and clung to it desperately, while teacher and boys drew the two in over the slippery edge, out of the horrible, seething waters, and took them in their arms.  But they were both silent and motionless.  Mr. Sharp spoke Guy’s name, but he did not answer.  Would either of them ever answer again?

Teachers and scholars went to work alike for their restoration.  It was well that there was intelligent guidance, or their best efforts might have failed.

Guy, being the stronger, was first to revive.  “Is Hetty safe?” he asked.

“Only God knows?” Mr. Sharp answered.  “We are doing our best.”

It was almost half an hour before Hetty opened her blue eyes.  Meantime Dick had been utterly frantic and helpless.  He had sobbed and groaned and even prayed, in a wild fashion of his own, which perhaps the pitying Father understood and answered.

When he heard his sister’s voice, he was like one beside himself with joy; but Mr. Sharp quieted him by a few low, firm words, which no one else understood.

Some of the larger girls arranged one of the wagons, and received Hetty into it.

Mr. Sharp drove home with Guy Morgan.  When he reached his mother’s gate, Guy insisted on going in alone.  He thought it might alarm her to see some one helping him; besides, he wanted her a few minutes quite to himself.  So Mr. Sharp drove away, and Guy went in.  His mother saw him coming, and opened the door.

“Where have you been?” she cried, seeing his wet, disordered plight.

“In Quassit River, mother, fishing out Hetty Osgood.”

Then, while she was busying herself with preparations for his comfort, he quietly told his story.  His mother’s eyes were dim, and her heart throbbed chokingly.

“O, if you had been drowned, my boy, my darling!” she cried, hugging him close, wet as he was.  “If I had been there, Guy, I couldn’t have let you do it.”

“I went in after the coals of fire, mother.”