“Now, my lads, take in the woman.”
Maud was lifted into the boat, and Sir Frederick himself clambered after her.
“Fifty guineas, my brave fellows,” he cried, “if we get to shore in time to recover this poor creature.”
“Fif—fif—fifty?” ejaculated the man with the light.
“Yes—fifty guineas.”
“Pull, you devils!” he shrieked out to the rowers. “Pull—pull.”
The men bent all their energies to the task, and in less than three minutes more the keel of the boat grated on the shore.
Wet and cold as he was, Sir Frederick Hartleton seized the inanimate and light form of Maud, as if she had been an infant, and springing from the boat, he ran to a public-house called “The King’s Bounty,” that was celebrated at the time and declaring who he was, had poor Maud immediately properly attended to, while he himself ran to a surgeon, and procured his instant services to restore her if possible to consciousness.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
The Smith’s Anger.—A Drunken Tour through Westminster in the Olden Time.—The Watch.—A Scene at the Chequers.—The Determination.