She had been cold the moment before, but now she seemed suffocating with an awful heat. With trembling hands she tore off her hat and waved it—Heaven knows with what desperate idea of attracting attention!—but the wind seized it and tore it from her hand. A moment afterward she felt the water lapping at her feet, and with an awful voice she called upon—Blair!
As if in answer to her appeal, the lightning shot out from the black sky and revealed her form as if carved in bronze on the top of the rock. The next moment she heard a man's voice, and a boat seemed to rise from the depths of the sea at her feet.
A lantern flashed in the darkness, and by its flickering gleam she saw a man rowing in the boat, and a woman crouching in the stern.
It was Day and his wife.
The woman screamed and pointed.
"There—there she is! For Heaven's sake be quick! Spring, Mrs. Stanley, spring! Oh——" and she moaned, "be quick!"
But, half mad with the insanity of mental and physical torture, Margaret drew back.
"No!" she cried. "I will not go! You shall not take me back to them!"
"Quick!" roared Day, with an oath, "or you will be too late! Here, hold the lantern, Jane! Hold it high!"
His wife seized the lantern and threw its rays upon Margaret's wild, white face. The boat, driven by the tide, struck against the rock, and Day, grappling it with his boat hook, sprung on to it.