“She simply won’t!”

“Ain’t got a crank, have ye?”

Rachael stared.

“Why, yes, we have, under my seat here.  But is there a chance that she might start on cranking?” she said eagerly.

“Dun’t know,” Ruddy said non-committally.

Rachael was instantly on her feet, and after some groping and adjusting, the cranking was attempted.  Failure.  Ruddy went bravely at it again.  Failure.  Again Rachael touched the starter.

“No use!” she said with a sinking heart.

But Ruddy was bred of sea-folk who do not expect quick results.  He tugged away again vigorously, and again after that.  And suddenly—­ the most delicious sound that Rachael’s ears had ever heard—­there was the sucking and plunging that meant success.  The car panted like a giant revived, and Ruddy stood back in the merciless green light and sent Rachael a smile.  His homely face, running rain, looked at her as bright as an angel’s.

“Dun’t know as I’d stand there, s’deep in my tracks!” shouted Ruddy.

Gingerly, timidly, she pushed the car on some ten feet.  “What I’s thinking,” suggested Ruddy then, coming to put his face in close to hers, and shouting over the noise of wind and water, “is this:  if I was to walk ahead of ye, kinder feeling for the road with my feet, then you could come after, d’ye see?”

“Oh, Ruddy, do you think we can make it, then?” Rachael’s face was wet with tears.

“Dun’t know,” he said.  He took off his immense boots and gray socks, and rolled up his wet trousers, the better to feel every inch of rise or fall in the ground beneath his feet, and Millie held these for him as if it were a sacred charge.

And then, with the full light of the lamps illumining his big figure, and with the water rushing and gurgling about them, and the rain pouring down as if it were an actual deluge, they made the crossing at Clark’s Bar.  The shifting water almost blinded Rachael sometimes, and sometimes it seemed as if any way but the way that Ruddy’s waving arms indicated was the right one; as if to follow him were utter madness.  The water spouted up through the clutch, and once again the engine stopped, and long moments went by before it would respond to the crank again.  But Rachael pushed slowly on.  She was not thinking now, she was conscious of no feeling but that there was an opposite shore, and she must reach it.

And presently it rose before them.  The road ran gradually upward, a shallow sheet of running water covering it, but firm, hard roadway discernible nevertheless.  Rachael stopped the car, and Ruddy came again and put his face close to hers, through the curtains.

“Now ye’ve got straight road, Mrs. Gregory, and I hope to the good Lord you’ll have a good run.  Thank ye, Millie—­much obliged!”

“Ruddy!” said Rachael passionately, her wet gloves holding his big, hairy hands tight.  “I’ll never forget this!  If he has a chance to live at all, this is his chance, and you’ve given it to him!  God bless you, a thousand times!”