"I shall stay alone, and I've had my way once already to-night."
"But we don't wish to lose one woman in finding another," I protested.
"Go," she commanded with a furious little stamp. "You lose time! Stupids! Do you think I stay here for nothing? We may have been followed and I shall stay here and watch! I'll hide in the rushes! Go!" And there was a second stamp.
That stamp of a foot no larger than a boy's hand cowed two strong men and sent us rowing meekly across the river.
"Did ye ever—did ever ye see such a little termagant, such a persuasive, commanding little queen of a termagant?" asked the priest almost breathless with surprise.
"Queen of courage!" I answered back.
"Queen of hearts, too, I'm thinking. Arrah! Me hearty, to be young!"
She must have smothered her torch, for there was no light among the reeds when I looked back. We crossed the river slowly, listening between oar-strokes for the paddle-dips of approaching canoes. There was no sound but the lashing of water against the pebbled shore and we lay in a little bay ready to dash across the fleet's course, when the boats should come abreast.
We had not long to wait. A canoe nose cautiously rounded the headland coming close to our boat. Instantly I shot our skiff straight across its path and Father Holland waved the torches overhead.
"Hist! Hold back there—have a care!" I called.