As Dr. Norris felt the boat whirl, he had called to the girls to jump, and a few heard him. Now, as he held firmly to Patty, whom he had caught up as he jumped, he groaned as he thought some of the girls might have been caught in the boat as she went over. The Greycliff, however, at first went over on her side, straining at the rope, to which immediately a number of the girls were clinging. Dr. Norris in a few moments felt the sand under his feet, struggled with Patty to the land, and while she was still choking and clearing her throat and lungs of the lake water, he told her to get up out of the reach of the waves and count the girls as he and Mickey brought them in. “And pray, Patty, that we may find every one!”
Jack was nowhere to be seen, but Mickey was already helping some of the girls who were trying to reach the rope, as Dr. Norris threw himself into the water where he saw some bobbing heads drifting out instead of in.
CHAPTER VII.
THE WRECK OF THE GREYCLIFF—CONTINUED.
At Greycliff Hall, meantime, the greatest alarm and concern was felt at the suddenness and fury of the storm. “I tell you, they can not have reached the Island,” declared Dr. Carver. A group of the teachers had gathered in Miss Randolph’s parlor where Miss Randolph herself was standing at her window quietly watching the storm. She had thrown on her raincoat, seized an umbrella and announced that she was going down to have a look at the lake. But when, against the protests of some of the teachers, she tried to open the front door and was thrown back nearly over, she gave up the attempt.
“That was the finest senior academy class we’ve had in years,” sadly asserted one of the music teachers who had been at Greycliff for a long time.
“‘Was!’” exclaimed Alma, who with one of the other girls had come in on some errand. “She is always an old ‘calamity-howler’!”
“Sh-sh! She’ll hear you.”
Miss Randolph, with the air of one who could not bear any more, beckoned to Alma and opening the door of her inner room, disappeared, Alma following and closing the door. “Send for Dr. Matthews, please, Alma. He was in the laboratory this morning before the storm. Have some one hunt him up.” Dr. Matthews was the older professor in sciences and Miss Randolph often called him into counsel. He was already striding down the corridor, feeling that whether anything could be done or not it would be well to have some plan, and met Alma not far from Miss Randolph’s parlor door.
“Please go into the office, Dr. Matthews,” said Alma. “Miss Randolph sent me for you, and I don’t think she wants to consult you with all those other teachers in there. Some of them have already given up hope and are talking about the dear departed!”
Dr. Matthews was a strong, comfortable looking man, well-poised, calm in an emergency and sensible in judgment. He smiled at Alma’s remark and disappeared into the office, which opened upon the same corridor. Alma went back to call Miss Randolph, who in turn summoned one or two of the other teachers and the few went into executive session in the office.