She paused to look up at the street-sign at the corner which they had reached, and turned to the right on a shady avenue.
“Well, I got into the boat,” she continued. “I told him that I—my father was prepared to pay him a large sum of money for the papers, but he only shook his head and said, ‘No, no.’ I named a sum; then a larger one; but money did not seem to tempt him, though I made the second offer as large as I dared.
“‘How much will you take then?’ I asked at last. Instead of answering, he bent down and started the motor, and then I noticed for the first time that while I was talking we had been drifting away from the dock. I made ready to jump overboard. We were near the shore, and the water was not deep; anyway, I am a fair swimmer. But he turned and seized my wrists and forced me down into the bottom of the boat. I struggled, but it was no use, and when I opened my mouth to scream, he choked me with one hand and with the other pulled from his pocket a handkerchief and tried to put it in my mouth.”
She gave a weary little laugh.
“It was such a crumpled, unclean handkerchief, I couldn’t have stood it. So I managed to gasp that, if he would only let me alone, I would keep quiet.”
“The brute!” muttered Orme.
“Oh, I don’t think he intended to hurt me. What he feared, as nearly as I can make out, is that I might have him intercepted if he let me go free. That must have been why he tried to take me with him. Probably he planned to beach the boat at some unfrequented point on the North Side and leave me to shift for myself.
“When your boat came, of course I didn’t know who was in it. I never dreamed it would be you. And I had promised to keep still.”
“Hardly a binding promise.”
“Well, before he stopped threatening me with that awful handkerchief, he had made me swear over and over that I would not call for help, that I would not make any signal, that I would sit quietly on the seat. When you recognized me, I felt that all need of observing the promise was over.”