It did not take the old man long to bring a lantern, and when the light fell upon the woman's face she moved her head and gave a slight moan.
"She's all right," the boatman remarked. "The best thing to do is to phone fer the ambulance. The hospital's the place fer her. She'll have a decent place fer the night, anyway, and they'll fix her up there. There's a phone in the drug-store just around the corner."
Douglas realised that this was the best course to pursue and, wet though he was, he sprang ashore and hurried up the street. It took him only a few minutes to reach the drug-store, where he sent in a hurry call for the ambulance. He paid no attention to the curious looks cast upon his drenched figure by several people who were standing near. In fact, he had forgotten how wet he was, so interested was he in obtaining aid for the unfortunate woman as speedily as possible.
Upon his return to the tug, he found the old man keeping guard.
"How is she now?" he asked.
"Ye can see fer yourself," and the boatman swung around his lantern as he spoke.
Douglas now had more time to observe the face of the woman before him. Her head, resting on an old coat, turned slightly to one side, was partly covered by a wealth of jet-black hair, forming a striking contrast to the face which was so very white. It was a face of considerable beauty, though lines of care were plainly visible. She seemed but a girl lying there, and as Douglas looked at her an intense anger smote his soul, and he longed to lay his hands upon the wretch who had tried to destroy her.
"Why are such brutes allowed their freedom?" he asked turning toward the boatman.
"Hey, what is that you say?" was the reply.
"I wonder why human brutes are permitted to have their freedom, and injure a woman such as that?"