Margaret Moore turned her white face up to Heaven, and her lips moved; then she reached forward, plunged her right arm desperately down into the ice-cold water, grasped at the sinking form, and caught it; but she could not draw the body up.
"Jessie Bain! Jessie Bain!" she cried; "you will slip away from me! I can not hold you!
"Help! help!" she shrieked, in terror. But there was no help at hand.
All in vain were her pitiful cries. Margaret's hands were torn and bleeding, and slowly but surely freezing. They must soon relax their hold, and poor Jessie Bain would slip down, down into a watery grave.
Ten, twenty minutes passed. Surely it was by a superhuman effort that that slender arm retained its burden; but it could not hold out much longer.
So intense was her terror, Margaret Moore d
