Esther felt the doctor's hand close around her own. Its clasp meant everything, reassurance, protection, strength. In the darkness she exulted and even ventured to frown belligerently in the direction of the disagreeable canoeist. They could see her plainly now. A tall woman in a man's coat with the sleeves rolled up displaying muscular arms. Her face, even in the half-light, looked harsh and gaunt. With a skill, which spoke of long practice, she sprang from the canoe, scarcely rocking it, and proceeded to tie the painter securely to a heavy ring in the float. Then she straightened herself and turned.
"I'll loose the dog!" she announced calmly.
Just that and no more! No arguments, no revilings, no display of any human quality. There was something uncanny in her ruthlessness.
"If you do, it will be bad for the dog," said Callandar coldly. "Who are you who threaten decent people?"
It was the tone of authority and for an instant she answered to it. Her harsh voice held a faint Scotch accent.
"There'll be no decent people here at this hour o' the nicht. Be off. You'll get no boat. Nor the hussy either. The dog's well used to guarding it."
"How dare you!" Esther was so angry at being called a hussy that she forgot how frightened she was and faced the woman boldly. But the old hard eyes stared straight into her young indignant ones and showed no softening. Next moment old Prue had pushed the girl aside and disappeared in the darkness of the wooded path.
"Quick!" The doctor's tone was crisp and steady. "The canoe is our chance. Jump in, while I hold it—in the bow, anywhere!"
"But the paddle! She has taken the paddle!" Even as she objected she obeyed. The frail craft rocked as she slid into it, careful only not to overbalance; next moment it rocked more dangerously and then settled evenly into the water under the doctor's added weight.
"Sit tight!" Carefully he leaned over her, steadying the canoe with one hand on the float. In the other she saw the glint of a knife, felt the confining rope sever, felt the strong push which separated them from the float and then, just as a great dog, fiercely silent now, bounded from the path above, a paddle rose and dipped and they shot out into the lake.