"Yes! Listen!" But no second cry followed the first.
"Nigel, you didn't know that voice? I had a fancy—"
Nigel uttered one word, "Fulvia." He had lost colour, but he spoke calmly, redoubling his exertions. The boat shot swiftly up stream.
"Let me take an oar." Malcolm started half up, but Nigel's answer was imperative—
"No; keep still. Can't wait for that."
Malcolm submitted. He knew that he could not rival these strokes, and he could better be on the lookout where he was. They swept round a slight bend, and then a cry escaped Malcolm.
"Ha! See there!"
"Where? What?"
"Some one in the water! A woman!"
"Make for her—straight."