"No, but Addie has, dear. Crow will do all right. Addie has two sets of flannels on the yacht always, often more. Crow will have one set and Addie the other, and they've got the oilskins, you see. Really," reasoned poor Mrs. Romilly, trying to pretend it was all very amusing--"really, it is quite an adventure--and an awfully good idea of Midget's. I don't think Addie would have thought of it himself, somehow. It is very--well--unusual."
"Horribly cold and rough," said Pamela, shivering as she looked at the grey water surging restlessly in the pretty bay.
"Rough water isn't always cold," said Mrs. Romilly; she was using every possible argument to make herself think this business was nothing.
Pamela asked how long ago the yawl had started, and was told that she sailed about half an hour since. Of course the swim, the dressing, and the start had all taken time. When had they seen the boat leaving the cove? Nobody seemed very sure. All that was mazy. The excitement had been so great, and the fear about Pamela so acute, that time had not been counted or noticed. Probably it was somewhere about six o'clock when the retreating dinghy was first seen.
A feeling of intense indignation gripped Pamela body and soul. She had never been so angry in her sweet-tempered life.
It was vile, it was treacherous!
The Countess had written that perfidious letter to draw her safely away and out of sight. That was all--not one word of honesty in the pretended loneliness and friendly overture. Pamela saw through the move clearly, now it was too late.
The girl calculated that she could pass down through Bell Bay grounds to the cove, and reach the dinghy without interference--under the guise of her double--Pamela. If the servants saw her on the beach no one would trouble.
Pamela realized also that she had satisfied herself of the fact that the yawl went out for short runs and back--her chances of finding the dinghy, and no one about, on such a day was a hundred to one, therefore--and as for the one chance against her, had Adrian been on the yawl and the dinghy in use, she would have strolled off--pretending to be Pamela--and tried again another day, no doubt.
Having been baulked in her plan of hiding on the Messenger, she had stolen the dinghy. Ignorant of weather conditions outside, no doubt she thought she could get to Peterock--anywhere.