They were near enough now to bow, and I raised myself from my reclining position to touch my hat. Mr. Finnock was steering, and I saw he knew nothing about it.
As I had tied my rudder I did not unloose it, as I thought of course they would pass by. Such was Finnock’s intention, but attempting to bear to one side, he gave the rudder too strong a turn, and to correct that turned too much the other way, and their boat, at full speed, ran obliquely against us. Carlotta and Miss Finnock both had risen to their feet as they saw the impending collision, and were both precipitated into the water, between the boats, which separated as soon as they struck.
Carlotta had scarcely touched the water before I was by her side.
Did you ever see waves close over one you love? then you know the horror that stamped the whole scene upon my memory, indelible in its distinctness, and perfectly vivid in its minutest detail. Her frightened look, as the boats came together, her agonizing cry for help as she fell, the dull splash of the water, the eddies that curled above the place she sank, all are present still. I remember now how clear the water was, and how, as with one stroke of my hands, I reached the spot, I saw her dress floating scarce beneath the surface, and then her face, distorted in her convulsive struggles for life, slowly rising upward. To draw her head above the surface was the work of a second, and as soon as she had cleared the water from her eyes and mouth sufficiently to become conscious, I bade her take my hand, and with the other commenced to swim to the nearest boat. As soon as she realized the situation she regained her presence of mind, and clung to me tenderly, though not so as to impede my movements. The large boat was not more than a dozen feet from us, and the occupants, as is usual in such cases, were in a frenzy of salvation, throwing overboard for our assistance, everything that would float. One of their intended life-buoys—a heavy oar—struck me on the head, almost stunning me, but I shook the water from my eyes and struggled on. The next moment my feet became entangled in a web of garments, a bubbling shriek burst forth close at my ear, and my arms were pinioned by the frantic Miss Finnock, who rose near me.
“B-r-r-sh ok—ok—Oh! chtl-Mr. Smith k-k—tl save your-k—d-arling, tlsave me k-ok—Oh! tlsave-k-me. D-ts-earest tsave me;” and, sputtering and choking, she clung to my neck, dragging me down irresistibly. As soon as Carlotta saw my danger, she let go my hand, and said, in her trembling voice, “Save yourself, John!”
But all this occurred in half the time I have taken to write it, and the people in the boat had now recovered their senses. The two Irishmen were in the water, and Mr. Marshman and Finnock stood ready with ropes to aid them. Carlotta was first drawn on board, then Miss Finnock and myself. Mr. Marshman fortunately happened to have a flask of brandy along, so the ladies went to work on the ladies, the gentlemen on me, while the boat hands overhauled our little boat, took down the sail, and lashed it fast to the large one. At first I felt weak and dizzy, but after a while I was able to sit up, though I could not render much help to the others. Carlotta was very pale, and her loosened hair, rendered still more glossy by the water, hung in jetty masses around her marble features. She was conscious, though faint, and lay helplessly in Mrs. Marshman’s lap, occasionally raising her soft eyes to mine with an expression so full of grateful meaning that it thrilled me into life and activity. Miss Finnock had fainted, of course, and lay like one dead in Miss Stelway’s lap.
The pallor on her face did not tend to increase her beauty, and a large roll of wet hair was hanging to her own knot by a single hair-pin.
Finnock and Miss Stelway were chafing her hands, and trying to get some of the brandy between her lips. Mrs. Marshman suggested unfastening her clothing, but after Miss Stelway had stolen a hand under her bodice, she withdrew it hopelessly, as if there was rather too much to undo and cut.
Very soon Miss F. commenced gasping, like a fish on a sand bank, and opening and closing her eyes in the most approved stage-faint style. Miss Stelway kissed her forehead, and called her “dear Saph,” with a fine resuscitating effect, for little Sappho began to utter broken sentences in faint but nervous sudden tones, jerking the words out, as if she could not control them.