I told him, my teeth rattling as I spoke, and without further words we went on towards the house. Nevertheless, the fervent handclasp and quiver in Haldane's voice were sufficiently eloquent. When we entered the house, where Mrs. Leyland took charge of Lucille, Haldane, asking very few questions, looked hard at me. "I shall not forget this service," he said quietly. "In the meantime get into some of Leyland's things as quickly as you can. We are going to pull the boat ashore under shelter of the island and requisition a wagon at Rideau's farm. I believe we can reach the others by an old lumbermen's trail."
It was in vain I offered my services as guide. Haldane would not accept them, and set out with the assistants whom, fearing some accident, he had brought with him, while I had changed into dry clothing when his daughter came in. What she had put on I do not know, but it was probably something of Mrs. Leyland's intended for evening wear; and, in contrast to her usual almost girlish attire, it became her. She had suddenly changed, as it were, into a woman. Her dark lashes were demurely lowered, but her eyes were shining.
"You are none the worse," I said, drawing out a chair for her; and she laughed a little.
"None; and I even ventured to appear in this fashion lest you should think so. I also wanted to thank you for taking care of me."
Lucille Haldane's voice was low and very pleasant to listen to, but I wondered why I should feel such a thrill of pleasure as I heard it.
"Shouldn't it be the reverse? You deserve the thanks for the way you helped me, though I am sorry it was necessary you should do what you did. Let me see your hands," I said.
She tried to slip them out of sight, but I was too quick and, seizing one, held it fast, feeling ashamed and sorry as I looked down at it. The hard ropes had torn the soft white skin, and the rim of the bucket or the coaming had left dark bruises. Admiration, mingled with pity, forced me to add: "It was very cruel. I called you child. You are the bravest woman I ever met!"
The damask tinge deepened a little in her cheeks, and she strove to draw the hand away, but I held it fast, continuing: "No man could have behaved more pluckily; but—out of curiosity—were you not just a little frightened?"
The lashes fell lower, and I was not sure of the smile beneath them. "I was, at first, very much so; but not afterwards. I thought I could trust you to take care of me."
"I am afraid I seemed very brutal; but I would have given my life to keep you safe," I said. "That, however, would have been very little after all. It is not worth much just now to anybody."