“Not quite,” said he.
“Dan,——for my sake——”
“I can’t, Georgie. Don’t ask me. I mustn’t——” And here he stopped short, with the coil of rope in his hand, and fixed me with his eye, and his look was terrible,——“we mustn’t let Faith die.”
“Well,” I said, “try it, if you dare; and as true as there’s a Lord in heaven, I’ll cut the rope!”
He hesitated, for he saw I was resolute; and I would, I declare I would have done it; for, do you know, at the moment, I hated the little dead thing in the bottom of the boat there.
Just then there came a streak of sunshine through the gloom where we’d been plunging between wind and water, and then a patch of blue sky, and the great cloud went blowing down river. Dan threw away the rope and took out the oars again.
“Give me one, Dan,” said I; but he shook his head. “O Dan, because I’m so sorry!”
“See to her, then,——fetch Faith to,” he replied, not looking at me, and making up with great sturdy pulls.
So I busied myself, though I couldn’t do a bit of good. The instant we touched bottom, Dan snatched her, sprang through the water and up the landing. I stayed behind; as the boat recoiled, pushed in a little, fastened the anchor and threw it over, and then followed.