Nothing was audible but the hum of the evening insects and the regular muffled beat of the oars over the water.

The boys strained their ears and held their breath as the sound suddenly stopped.

But they listened in vain.

The lazy tree-toads sang, the monotonous hum of the night went on.
Gabriel Bennet held the hand of Little Malacca--a dark-eyed boy, who was supposed in the school to have had no father or mother, and who had instinctively attached himself to Gabriel from the moment they met.
"Isn't it dreadful ?" whispered the latter.
"Yes," said Gabriel, "it's dreadful to be young when a man's drowning, for you can't do any thing.

Hist!" There was not a movement, as they heard a dull, distant sound.
"I guess that's Jim Greenidge," whispered Little Malacca, under his breath; "he's the best diver." Nobody answered.