“I tell you,” it cried, “you must find Lord Ivy!  If Lord Ivy—­”

A voice with a strong and brutal American accent yelled in answer:  “To hell with Lord Ivy!”

Lady Moya chuckled.

“Get to the lower deck!” I commanded.  “I am going for the yawl.”

As I slipped my leg over the rail I heard Lord Ivy say:  “I’ll find Phil and meet you.”

I dropped and caught the rail of the deck below, and, hanging from it, shoved with my knees and fell into the water.  Two strokes brought me to the yawl, and, scrambling into her and casting her off, I paddled back to the steamer.  As I lay under the stern I heard from the lower deck the voice of Kinney raised importantly.

“Ladies first!” he cried.  “Her ladyship first, I mean,” he corrected.  Even on leaving what he believed to be a sinking ship, Kinney could not forget his manners.  But Mr. Aldrich had evidently forgotten his.  I heard him shout indignantly:  “I’ll be damned if I do!”

The voice of Lady Moya laughed.

“You’ll be drowned if you don’t!” she answered.  I saw a black shadow poised upon the rail.  “Steady below there!” her voice called, and the next moment, as lightly as a squirrel, she dropped to the thwart and stumbled into my arms.

The voice of Aldrich was again raised in anger.  “I’d rather drown!” he cried.

Lord Ivy responded with unexpected spirit.

“Well, then, drown!  The water is warm and it’s a pleasing death.”

At that, with a bump, he fell in a heap at my feet.

“Easy, Kinney!” I shouted.  “Don’t swamp us!”

“I’ll be careful!” he called, and the next instant hit my shoulders and I shook him off on top of Lord Ivy.

“Get off my head!” shouted his lordship.

Kinney apologized to every one profusely.  Lady Moya raised her voice.

“For the last time, Phil,” she called, “are you coming or are you not?”

“Not with those swindlers, I’m not!” he shouted.  “I think you two are mad!  I prefer to drown!”

There was an uncomfortable silence.  My position was a difficult one, and, not knowing what to say, I said nothing.

“If one must drown!” exclaimed Lady Moya briskly, “I can’t see it matters who one drowns with.”

In his strangely explosive manner Lord Ivy shouted suddenly:  “Phil, you’re a silly ass.”

“Push off!” commanded Lady Moya.

I think, from her tone, the order was given more for the benefit of Aldrich than for myself.  Certainly it was effective, for on the instant there was a heavy splash.  Lord Ivy sniffed scornfully and manifested no interest.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, “he prefers to drown!”

Sputtering and gasping, Aldrich rose out of the water, and, while we balanced the boat, climbed over the side.

“Understand!” he cried even while he was still gasping, “I am here under protest.  I am here to protect you and Stumps.  I am under obligation to no one.  I’m—­”