"I must try. Little Faith will die, if we don't get ashore."

"She's dead now, Dan."

"What! No, no, she isn't. Faith isn't dead. But we must get ashore."

"Dan," I cried, clinging to his arm, "Faith's only one. But if you die
so,--and you will!--I shall die too."

"You?"

"Yes; because, if it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have been here at
all."

"And is that all the reason?" he asked, still at work.

"Reason enough," said I.

"Not quite," said he.

"Dan,--for my sake"----

"I can't, Georgie. Don't ask me. I mustn't"--and here he stopped short,
with the coil of rope in his hand, and fixed me with his eye, and his
look was terrible--"_we_ mustn't let Faith die."

"Well," I said, "try it, if you dare,--and as true as there's a Lord in
heaven, I'll cut the rope!"

He hesitated, for he saw I was resolute; and I would, I declare I would