The strange thing was that he looked afraid.
"I couldn't stop her with the back-stroke," he said hoarsely.

"She rolled over as she swung across the stream." Thirlwell shivered, because it was obvious that the sick man was going over what had happened the night Strange was drowned.

His manner hinted that he was trying to excuse himself for something he had done.
Shrinking back in the bunk, he resumed in a stronger voice: "I couldn't stop her! The stream was running fast." Then he was silent for a time and Thirlwell heard the river rolling through its ice-bound channel and the dreary wailing of the pines.

He felt disturbed; something in Driscoll's voice and look had jarred his nerves, and it cost him an effort not to waken Father Lucien.

It was not time yet and the priest needed sleep.