"What—what happened?" she gasped. "You—why have you brought me—here?"
He did not look at her.
"It was the nearest place," he said. "The Death Current caught you, and you were stunned. I got you out."
"You—got me—out!" she repeated, saying the words slowly as if she were teaching herself a lesson.
He nodded his great head.
"Yes. I came up in time. I saw what would happen. There's often a tidal wave about now. I thought you knew that—thought Adam would have told you. He"—his voice suddenly went a tone deeper—"knew it. I told him this morning."
"Ah!" She uttered the word upon a swift intake of breath; her startled eyes suddenly dilated. "Where is he?" she said.
The man's huge frame stiffened at the question; she saw his hands clench. But he kept his head turned from her; she could not see his face. There followed a pause that seemed to her fevered imagination to have something deadly in it. Then: "I hope he's gone where he belongs," said Rufus, with terrible deliberation.
Her cry of agony cut across his last word like the severing of a taut string. She leapt to her feet, in that moment of anguish supremely forgetful of self.
"Rufus!" she cried, and wildly gripped his arm, "You've never—left him—to be—killed!"