His brisk manner was just enough, in her distressed state of mind, to reduce the girl immediately to tears.
“He got away from us and is on this boat. That’s what’s about him,” said Priscilla, coming at once to her sister’s aid. “Don’t mind, Dissy; we’ll find him.”
An interested spectator of the scene, a tall, energetic type of woman, now joined the group.
“Let me help you look for him, my dear,” she said briskly, putting a hand on Desiré’s shoulder. “No need to worry; he’s certainly safe.”
“But,” choked the girl, now fully conscious that the boat was moving, “we can’t go on. My big brother is waiting for us in Yarmouth! What—what will he think? What will he do?” She wrung her hands distractedly.
“You could go back on the tug, if the boy’s found before she leaves us,” suggested the officer, coming to the rescue as soon as he fully understood the situation.
“There he is!” shrieked Priscilla, darting to the side of the boat where René was climbing up on a suitcase to look over the railing at the water. Grasping him firmly by the tail of his jacket, she dragged him backward across the salon, and brought him to a violent sitting posture at Desiré’s feet.
Meanwhile the officer had ordered the tug to be signalled, and she now came alongside. No time for anything but hurried thanks to their benefactors as the girls and René were helped over the side and onto the tug. Noisily, fussily, she steamed away from the big boat, over whose rails hung the interested passengers, and headed to Yarmouth.
“What ever made you do such a naughty thing, René?” asked Desiré, who had recovered her outward composure.
“Wanted to see big boat,” replied the child, not at all impressed by the gravity of his offense. Useless to say more now.