“I don’t know, but we must trust her. We can trust her. She’s been wonderful all these last three days. Only for her I could never have got food to Neal.”
“Well,” said Maurice, “I suppose if the worst comes to the worst it will only be a matter of knocking him on the head with an oar. I don’t want to do that if I can help it. My lord will be angry if he has to get me out of a fresh scrape. It will be a serious matter to assault this captain in cold blood. I’ll do it, of course, if necessary, but I would rather not.”
The boat was dragged down the beach. The Comtesse looked at it, and protested.
“Maurice, surely you are not going in that little boat. It’s far too small. It’s not safe.”
“Oh, it’s safe enough,” said Maurice, “and anyway there’s no other.”
“There is,” said the Comtesse. “There, look at that nice broad, flat boat. I’ll go in that.”
“The cobble for lifting the salmon net!” said Maurice, with a laugh. “My dear aunt, you couldn’t go to sea in that. She can’t sail, and it takes four men to pull her as fast as a snail would crawl. Who ever heard of going off to the Skerries in a salmon cobble?”
“Well,” said the Comtesse, angrily, “I won’t go in the other. I know that one is too small. Isn’t she too small, Captain Twinely? Look at the size of the sea. Look how far off the island is! No, I won’t go. If you persist in being disobliging, Maurice, you and Una can go by yourselves. Captain Twinely and I will stay on shore.”
The boat was already in the water and Una sat in the stern. Maurice, ankle deep in water, held her bow. Maurice laughed aloud. He began to understand his aunt’s plan.
“Come, Captain Twinely, we will go for a walk along the cliffs.”