“I know you will. And I—I wished to say—but I cannot—”
“I know what you would say. Lie down and rest. God be with you!”
All appeared calm and right on board the boat, as long as Annie could watch its course in the harbour. When it disappeared behind a headland, she returned home to look
for it again. She saw it soon, and for some time, for it coasted the island to the northernmost point for the chance of being unseen to the last possible moment. It was evidently proceeding steadily on its course, and Annie hoped that the sense of freedom might be acting as a restorative for the hour to the dying woman. Those on board hoped the same; for the lady, when she had covered her face with a handkerchief, lay very still.
“She looks comfortable,” whispered the President to Sir Alexander. “Can you suggest anything more that we can do?”
“Better let her sleep while she can, my lord. She appears comfortable at present.”
Three more hours passed without anything being observable in Lady Carse, but such slight movements now and then as showed that she was not asleep. She then drew the handkerchief from her face and looked up at Helsa, who exclaimed at the change in the countenance. The President bent over her, and caught her words—
“It is not your fault—but I am dying. But I am sure I should have died on land, and before this. And I have escaped! Tell my husband so.”
“I will. Shall I raise you?”