The negro woman and the man who had fallen overboard had speedily found a foothold, and had stood up, and, with dripping heads and faces, were now wading toward Chap’s boat.
Into this they were helped, for the other boat had filled with water, and sunk.
The two valises of the countess were fished up from the bottom by one of the men, and deposited in the boat. The floating oars of the sunken boat were picked up, and the negroes proceeded to row Chap’s heavily-laden craft toward the Giles.
All the condemnation of aristocratic institutions which Chap intended hurling at the head of the countess was entirely forgotten. He felt that her misfortunes had sufficiently established the fact that even the highest rank and the proudest lineage must sometimes give way before the rapid advance of republican vengeance.
As for the countess, she said never a word. She was entirely occupied in getting back her breath, and in trying, with the help of her woman, to put her hat and hair into decent order.
On board of the Humphrey Giles, there had been a great deal of excitement and anxiety.
When the boat containing the shouting Chap and his frantic oarsmen rushed out of the reeds, and sprang like a wild beast on the other boat, the people on board the Giles, who witnessed the occurrence, gave a cry of horror.
The captain ordered a boat to be lowered to go to the rescue, but before it could be got ready, all the capsized people were in Chap’s boat, and it was being rowed toward the steamboat.
Helen, with great delight, recognized her brother, but Mr. Berkeley was much troubled. Where was his boy—his Phil? and where was young Poole?
The Humphrey Giles was detained much longer than her captain expected she would be. Everybody on board wanted to know all about what had happened, but no one except Chap seemed able to tell anything, and he was so busily engaged hugging and kissing a girl in a straw hat, that he paid no attention to the questions of anybody.