As the dusk deepened into night upon this memorable evening, Hemstead stood at the parlor window, and looked out so long and intently that Lottie joined him at last, and asked, "What can you see without, and in the darkness, so much more attractive than anything within?"

"Do you see that faint light out there upon the river?"

"Yes."

"Well, I've been watching it for some time, and it troubles me. I noticed this afternoon that there was ice coming down with the tide. Is it possible that some one, in crossing with a small boat, has been caught in the ice and carried downward?"

"Why should you think that? Nothing is more common than lights upon the river at night."

"Yes, but not of late. Since the last severe cold I have noticed that the river was almost deserted, and the papers state that it is freezing north of us. But it is the peculiarity in the movement of the light that perplexes me. When I saw it first, it appeared as if coming across the river. Suddenly, when quite over toward this side, it seemed to stop a moment, then turn directly down the stream."

"Uncle," cried Lottie, "you know all about the river. How do you account for what Mr. Hemstead has seen?" and she explained.

"Lights are very deceptive at night, especially upon the water," said Mr. Dimmerly, sententiously. "It's probably a hardy water-rat of a boatman dropping down with the tide to a point opposite to where he wishes to land."

"Yes, that is it, Mr. Hemstead, so dismiss your fears. Your brow is as clouded as that murky sky there."

"That comparison is quite oriental in its extravagance," he said, his anxious face relaxing into a sudden smile. "But then you are a bit tropical yourself."

"Well, you can't complain if I remind you of the tropics this dreary winter night; so I'll bear out your fanciful conceit. Your face, a moment since, was like a burst of sunshine."

"Your figure now is incorrect as well as extravagant; for, whatever light my face has, it is but the reflection of your kindness."

"I hope you do not mean to suggest that you have any tendency towards 'mooning'?"

"'Mooning' is the indulgence of sickly sentiment, is it not,—a diluted moonlight kind of feeling?"

"Very well defined. Does experience give you such accuracy?" said
Lottie, laughingly.

"I can honestly say no; and most surely not in your case."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Lottie. "I should be sorry to think that cold, diluted moonlight was the type of any of my friends' regard."

"You may rest assured," he replied impulsively, "there is nothing 'cold or diluted' in my regard for you—"

"There is the supper-bell," interrupted Lottie, hastily.

"What are you looking at?" asked De Forrest, uneasily noting the fact of their standing together within the shadowy curtains. He had just descended from the toilet which, with him, was a necessity before each meal.

"Mr. Hemstead has seen a light upon the river, and bodes from it some vague danger to some vague, indefinite people. Come, Mr. Hemstead, come away, or before we know it you will be off on the quixotic attempt to rescue what uncle calls a 'hardy water-rat,' that all the water of the river could not drown."

"O, I see," sneered De Forrest; "Mr. Hemstead wishes to get cheaply, standing here within and in good company, the credit of being willing to attempt a perilous rescue."

"You are jumping at conclusions very rapidly, Julian, and not very charitable ones either," said Lottie, reproachfully.

"Come, Mr. De Forrest," said Hemstead, quietly, "we will test this question of cheapness. I will go with you to investigate that light."

"Nonsense!" replied the exquisite. "As Miss Marsden suggested, Don
Quixote may be your model knight, but he is not mine."

"Now I didn't suggest any such thing," said Lottie, decidedly vexed.

"Come, young people, tea is waiting," called Mrs. Marchmont.

"Well, I did," said De Forrest to Lottie, aside; "and what's more, I believe it's true," and he placed her reluctant hand upon his arm, and drew her to the supper-room.

But Hemstead lingered a moment, to watch the light, with increasing uneasiness. In his silent abstraction at the table it was evident to Lottie that his mind was dwelling upon the problem of the mysterious glimmer far out upon the river. Before the meal was over, he abruptly excused himself, but soon returned as if relieved, and said, "It is no more to be seen."

"I told you how it was," said Mr. Dimmerly. "The man floated down as far as he wished, and now has pulled ashore."

The explanation fully satisfied the rest, and sounded plausible to Hemstead; and the evening promised to pass quietly and uneventfully away. Mrs. Marchmont's parlor was a picture of cosey elegance. Bel, and Addie with her mother and uncle, made a game of whist at one table; while Hemstead in subdued tones read the latest magazine at another. De Forrest was half-dozing in his chair, for the article was rather beyond him; and while Lottie's fair face was very thoughtful, it might be questioned whether the thought was suggested by the reader or by what he read. But the article was finished, and for the relief of change Hemstead paced the room a few moments, and then half-aimlessly went to the window and looked out toward the river. His abrupt exclamation startled them all.

"There is the light again!"

A moment later he stood, bare-headed, upon the piazza, straining his eyes out into the darkness.

"I feel impressed that there is something wrong,—that some one is in danger," he said to Lottie, who had followed him.

"You will take cold standing here without your hat," she said.

"So will you. Where is your hat, that you should talk prudence to me?"

But the others were more thoughtful of themselves, and were well protected as they now also came out upon the piazza.

"Well, it is a little queer," said Mr. Dimmerly.

"I suppose one ought to go and see what it means," said Bel, hesitatingly. "But then there are those better able to go than any one from here."

"Hush!" said Hemstead.

Far and faint there seemed to come a cry for help across the darkness.

"That is enough," he cried; "some one is in distress and danger. Come, Mr. De Forrest. The case has lost all its quixotic elements, and you may now emulate the Chevalier Bayard himself."

"O, please don't go, gentlemen!" cried Lottie. "See, the night is very dark; the wind is rising; the water must be very rough. You may just throw away your own lives in the vain attempt to save utter strangers."

"Miss Marsden is right," said De Forrest, as if greatly relieved. "The attempt is perfectly foolhardy, and I am not a fool. If some one is in a boat that is fast in the ice, he has only a few more miles to drift before coming opposite a large town, where ther............