“I—­I cannot bear to think of it!”

“Now see here,” I said, coming back to my senses.  “This is all foolishness, and losing us time.  I ’m not sorry he is out of the way; it was either his life or ours.  He was a big, lawless brute, a murderer at heart, if he was n’t in deed.  Now there is all the more reason for us to hurry.  Have you got the knife?”

“Yes.”

“Then get hold of that stern rope; I am going to lower away.”

She obeyed me, but it was mechanical, her eyes still fixed upon the water.

“Be quick now,” I said sternly, and my hand pressed her shoulder.  “Your life depends on your promptness.”

I loosened the ropes, permitting them to run slowly through the blocks.  There was no creaking, and I rejoiced at the ease with which I sustained the weight, as the boat descended.  Slowly it sank below into the darkness, until it was merely a black, shapeless shadow outlined against the water.  I felt the strain on my arms as the swell gripped its keel; then the stern swung free, and I knew she was scrambling forward, knife in hand, for the other rope.  Almost before the boat could swing about, the second stay dangled, and all my straining eyes could perceive was a dark, indefinite shadow drifting out of sight astern.  Without uttering a sound, or wasting a second, I dived from the rail.  I came up to the surface, swishing the water from my eyes.  Five fathoms away was the shapeless outline of the boat, tossing helplessly on the swell, the girl still in the bow, her very attitude bespeaking terror.

“It’s all right,” I called, loud enough for her to hear.  “Throw out an oar on the left, and hold her.  I ’ll be there in a minute.”

She heard me and understood, for with one sob of relief plainly audible in the still night, she shipped the oar.  Weighted by sodden clothes even that short distance tested me, yet her efforts, small as they were, halted the boat’s drift, and I made it, almost breathless, when I finally gripped the gunwale, and hung on to regain a measure of strength.

“Oh, thank God!” she exclaimed, staring at me, “I—­I thought you were lost.”

“My clothes are like lead,” I panted.  “They dragged me down twice.  That’s over with now.”

“But—­but what could I have done if you had not come!”

“Don’t think of it; the danger is all over.  You need n’t pull on the oar; just hold it straight out; that will keep the boat’s head forward.”

“Can you get over the side?”

“In a moment—–­yes; as soon as I get my breath back.  Did you notice any alarm on board the Sea Gull?”

She shaded her eyes with one hand, holding the heavy oar against her body, and looked ahead.

“No; I was not thinking about that—­only of your danger, and my awful position.  I was never so frightened before.”

“Can you still see the vessel?”

“Just a shadow against the sky.  I—­I think she is moving straight ahead.”