As he rose to the surface he caught with both hands the narrow overhang of the stern, and with a mighty heave he hoisted himself hip-high out of the water.

Thence it was the work of a bare two seconds for him to swing himself over the stern and to land on all fours in the bottom of the boat.  The narrow craft careened dangerously under such treatment.  But she righted herself, and by the time he had fairly landed upon the cleated bottom.  Brice was on his feet and making for the prow.  He was ready now for any emergency and could meet his adversary on equal terms.

“Mr. Brice!” called the boat’s other occupant, springing up, her sweet voice trembling and almost tearful.  “Oh, thank God you’re safe!  I was so frightened!”

“Miss Standish!” sputtered Gavin, aghast.  “Miss Standish!”

For a moment they stood staring at each other through the darkness, wordless, breathing hard.  Their quick breath and the trickling of fifty runnels of water from Gavin’s drenched clothes into the bottom of the once-tidy boat alone broke the tense stillness of sky and bay.  Then: 

“You’re safe?  You’re not harmed?” panted the girl.

And the words brought back with a rush to Gavin Brice all he had been through.

“Yes,” he made harsh answer trying to steady his rage-choked voice.  “I am safe.  I am not harmed.  Apart from a few fire-blisters on my ankles and the charring of my clothes and the barking of one knee against a bit of submerged coral and the cutting of my fingers rather badly and a few more minor mischances—­I’m quite safe and none the worse for the Standish family’s charming hospitality.  And, by the way, may I suggest that it might have been better for your brother or the gentle-hearted Mr. Hade to run across to the key to get news of my fate, instead of sending a girl on such an errand?  It’s no business of mine. of course.  And I don’t presume to criticize two such noble heroes.  But surely they ought not have sent you.  If their kindly plan had worked out according to schedule.  I should not have been a pretty sight for a woman to look at. by this time.  I—­”

“I—­I don’t understand half of the things you’re saying!” she cried, shrinking from his taunting tone as from a fist-blow.  “They don’t make any sense to me.  But I do see why you’re so angry.  And I don’t blame you.  It was horrible!  Horrible!  It—­”

“It was all that,” he agreed drily, breaking in on her quivering speech and steeling himself against its pitiful appeal.  “All that.  And then some.  And it’s generous of you not to blame me for being just the very tiniest least bit riled by it.  That helps.  I was afraid my peevishness might displease you.  My temper isn’t what it should be.  If it were I should be apologizing to you for getting your nice boat all sloppy like this.”

“Please!” she begged.  “Please!  Won’t you please try not to--to think too hardly of my brother?  And won’t you please acquit me of knowing anything of it?  I didn’t know.  Honestly.  Mr Brice.  I didn’t.  When Milo came back home without you he told me you had decided to stay on at Roustabout Key to help Roke, till the new foreman could come from Homestead.”