Melville looked at his companion lying huddled at the bottom of the boat. Could he rely upon her not betraying him? What line should he take with her when presently the scene that had to be got over between them should begin? He could not quite decide; it was difficult to do so until he saw her face. But for the moment he was glad that she should cower down as she was doing; it rendered her chance of being recognised so much the less, and already boat-loads of soaked holiday-makers were passing them. Melville paused as a favourable opportunity offered, and surreptitiously dropped his revolver into the river-bed. If—anything—should happen, that must not be found amongst his possessions, for the bullet it had held would certainly be kept, and such a coincidence as his possessing a weapon which it fitted must be prevented. He kept his head down as he sculled and looked neither to the right nor to the left. To the lock-keeper from whom he had hired the boat he was a stranger, and all he had to do was to avoid being recognised himself by any acquaintance who might chance to be in the crowd that now was nearing the lock simultaneously.
He drew in to the left bank and let the lock fill up. The rain, which had been savage and relentless while they were on the river, was abating now they were within easy reach of shelter; the intervals between the peals of thunder were lengthening, and, most noticeable of all, the terrible oppression was relieved. Melville hooked the boat on to the stakes below the lock and backed her gently up the stream until he came to a spot where they could land easily.
"Sit up, Lavender," he said softly, but peremptorily.
She raised herself on one arm and looked round. Hopelessness stared from her large eyes, but Melville saw with relief that the insane terror had departed from them; he was anxious to get her into the train without exciting remark, and it was something that she had regained her self-control. That her frock was dripping wet and stained red from the cushions would not attract attention here where everyone was wet, and before they reached Waterloo she would not look so deplorable, however cold and uncomfortable she might feel.
"We won't go through the lock," he said. "I'm going to pay the man for the boat and say he'll find her here. Pull yourself together as much as you can before I come back. If we are quick I think we can just catch a train, and we shall get away before all the people get out of the lock and crowd up the station. Do you feel better now?"
"Yes," she answered dully.
"I can depend upon you until we get home?" he asked, with some anxiety.
She nodded a vacant assent, and with that he had to be satisfied. He got out of the boat and went to the lock to pay for its hire and tell the man where to find it. Meantime, Lavender, realising that whatever the future might have in store for her, no good could be done by a scene at St. Martin's Lock, made an effort to pull herself together, and tried to readjust her bedraggled costume. With one of the napkins from the hamper she dried her face and hands, and wringing some of the water from her skirts and rubbing her patent shoes, she succeeded in making herself a little more presentable. Melville was pleased. They hurried to the station and were fortunate enough to catch an up train and secure an empty carriage.
But as soon as the train moved away his manner changed. Even if they were left alone during the whole journey they only had fifty-five minutes in which to arrive at an understanding, for he was quite clear he could not go back with her to The Vale. He took the corner seat immediately opposite to her.
"Why did you leave the boat at Fairbridge?"