“That I have already proved.  But it was very kind of you to come and rescue me.  I owe my life to you,” the stranger said, with a sudden thrill of feeling in his voice.

Katherine flushed more brightly than before.  “We thought it was Oily Dave whom we were trying to save,” she said, with a faint ripple of laughter.  “And Miles said he wasn’t worth it, only of course we had to do the best we could.  Are you the Englishman who came through from Maxokama two days ago?”

“Yes,” he answered.  “And it was the four hundred miles on snowshoes that made my feet so bad, though I am rather proud of having done it.”

“I am sure you have a right to be proud of such a feat,” Katherine answered; and then they did not say much more, for the work was getting harder every minute, and she wondered what would have happened if there had been only Miles and herself to manage the boat, for certainly the arms of Jervis Ferrars had a strength which Miles did not possess, yet in spite of this it was as much as they could do to make headway against the streaming current.

The danger came when they had to creep past the fishing boats, some of which were anchored so close in to the banks that they had to get out in the open river to pass them.  Katherine had left off shivering, but she was trembling still from excitement and exhaustion; moreover, she was miserably self-conscious, because of the stranger who was sitting behind.  It was horrible to be wet, dirty, and thoroughly bedraggled, but it was still more horrible to be compelled to sit in such a condition right under the eyes of a strange man, whose every tone and gesture proclaimed him a gentleman.  But they were very nearly at the end of the journey.  The roar of the rapids was in their ears, and Katherine was thinking with a sigh of relief that she would soon be able to rest her aching arms.

Suddenly Miles leant forward and spoke.  “I’m afraid there is something wrong at home.  Phil has just dashed out of the store door, looking as white as chalk.  He beckoned to us to hurry, and now he has rushed back again.”

“Father!  Perhaps he is not so well,” exclaimed Katherine, with a quick terror gripping at her heart.  Then she thought with a swift compunction of the stranger they were bringing home, and wondered if her father would resent the intrusion.

But Phil had run out again just as the boat grounded against the bank, and now he began shouting:  “Oh, do come quick; Father is dreadfully ill, and Nellie does not know what to do with him.”

“You go first; the boy will help me,” said Jervis Ferrars, hurrying Katherine out of the boat.

She landed with a bound and tried to run, but her water-logged garments clung so closely about her that she could only walk, and the few steps to the door seemed like a mile.

“Nellie says it is a stroke, and she is afraid Father is dying,” sobbed Phil, who was running to and fro in a distracted fashion.