"Don't go near the bridge!" shouted Hugh again, by this time half way
down the bank.

"Hugh is too despotic," thought his cousin, as she climbed up on the
wet stones. "I shall certainly do as I please. If he wants implicit
obedience, he must go to Edith Chase." In another instant she was on
the plank, and balancing herself, walked forward over the torrent,
holding her long skirt over her arm; her head was steady, she did not
know what fear was; many a time she had crossed deeper chasms in
safety, and she laughed to herself as she heard Hugh crashing through
the bushes down the bank behind her. "He will like me all the better
for my courage," she thought, somewhat surprised at his silence, for
she had expected to hear further remonstrance. Suddenly, when she had
reached the middle of the bridge, the plank cracked, gave way
entirely, and in an instant she was in the foaming torrent below. She
sank, and for one moment, one dreadful moment, she was under water,
suffocating and terror-stricken, while all the events of her life
seemed to rush before her like an instantaneous panorama. Then she
felt the air again, and opening her eyes, found herself in Hugh's
arms, as he strode out of the water and laid her down on the bank.
"Oh, Hugh!" she gasped, "it was dreadful!"

"Are you hurt, dear? Did your head strike the rocks?" asked her cousin
anxiously.

"No, I think not; but I feel rather dizzy," said Bessie, closing her
eyes.

"Can you stay here for a moment alone, while I run back to the
farm-house? Fortunately the weather is so warm there is not much