Of course the President said he must, and civilly stopped the remonstrance. Then she declared, with a forced quietness, “If you will go, I must go with you. Do not say a word against it. I have your promise, and I will hold you to it. Oh, yes, I am fit to go—fitter than to stay. If I stay, I shall die this night. If I go, I shall live to keep a certain promise of mine—to go and see my Lord Lovat’s head fall. I will not detain you; we have five minutes of your ten yet I will be across the threshold before your ten minutes are up. Helsa! Helsa, come with me.”
“What is to be done?” asked the President of Annie. “You know her best. What if I compel her to stay? Would there be danger?”
“I think she would probably die to-night, as she says. If she could convince herself of her weakness, that would be best. She cannot walk to the shore. She cannot sit in an open boat in winter weather.”
“You are right. I will let her try. She may endure conviction by such means.”
“I will go with you to help her home.”
“That is well; but you are feeble yourself.”
“I am, sir; but I must try what I can do.” Lady Carse was over the threshold within the ten minutes, followed by Helsa with a bundle of clothes. She cast a glance of fiery triumph back at the dwelling, and round the whole desolate scene. For a few steps she walked firmly, then she silently accepted the President’s arm. Further on, she was glad to have Helsa’s on the other side.
“Let me advise you to return,” said the President, pausing when the descent became steeper. “By recruiting here till the spring, you—”
“I will recruit elsewhere, thank you. When I once get into the boat I shall do very well. It is only this steep descent, and the treacherous footing.”
She could not speak further. All her strength was required to keep herself from falling between her two supporters. “You will not do better in the boat. You mistake your condition,” said the President. “Plainly, my conviction is, that if you proceed you will die.”