Blanche Farrow was for turning back; but Helen Brabazon, Sir Lyon, and Varick were all for going on, the more so that Varick declared that at a cottage which formed the apex of the reservoir they would be able to get some tea. So off they started again, in the same order as before, to find, however, that the narrow brick-way, instead of being drier--as one would have expected it to be above the water--was more slushy and slippery than had been the path running along the top of the older part of the embankment. Yet the steep bank leading down to the sullen, half-frozen surface of the reservoir had been cleared of the grass and bushes which covered the slopes of the rest of the causeway.
They had all been walking on again for some minutes when Donnington turned round. "Take care, Bubbles! It's very slippery just here."
"I'm all right," she called back pettishly. "Mind your own business, Bill. I wish you wouldn't keep looking round!"
Donnington saw Varick put out his right hand and grasp the girl's arm firmly; but even so it struck him that they were both walking too near the edge on the side to the water. Still, he didn't feel he could say any more, and so he turned away, and again began trudging along by the silent Tapster's side.
For a while nothing happened, and then all at once there occurred something which Donnington will never recall--and that however long he may live--without a sensation of unreasoning, retrospective horror welling up within him.
And yet it was only the sound--the almost stuffless sound--of a splash! It was as if a lump of earth, becoming detached from the wet bank, had rolled over into the deep water.
At the same moment, or a fraction of a moment later, Varick laughed aloud; it was a discordant laugh, evidently at something Bubbles had just said, for Donnington heard the words, "Really, Bubbles!" uttered in a loud, remonstrating, and yet jovial voice.
And then, all at once, some instinct caused the young man to wheel sharply round, to see, a long way back from the others, Varick standing solitary on the brick path.
His companion had vanished. It was as if the earth had swallowed her up.
But Varick, still standing in the middle of the path, did not look as if he heard Donnington's question. The young man set off running towards him.