"Didn't you hear a--wait a bit, Addie, I must----" She was up and through the door with a swift run. Adrian followed, not understanding.
The blackness seemed to strike their eyes at the instant--blackness and grey shapes moving up and down--across and across--flashes of white foam and with that douches of cold spray.
Christobel was up on the counter holding to the mizzen, and trying to see; the stem of the yacht rose and fell in nasty pitches.
"Come down, Crow," called Adrian; "you'll slip!"
The answer was an excited cry from his sister:
"Addie, Addie, quick--the boathook! Get her, get her, don't let the boat go--it's Pam!"
Adrian saw--to leeward of the yawl--quite close, too, something dark rise on a wave from under the stern almost. Someone gave a call which was blown away by the wind, only a faint echo of it reaching them.
Christobel held on to the mizzen and shouted directions.
"Row, row, Pam--come up to the red light; we'll get you--don't be afraid."
Adrian hurled himself forward with the boathook, and dropped the steps into the hooks.