"We got ter take a chance," was the answer. "Keelhaul me, if I want to stay at this island any longer!"
Closer and closer to the jaws of the reef sped the Bertha Hamilton. Then up and down like a cork danced the schooner. For one brief instant as she plunged through the waves and the foam, scattering the flying spray in all directions, it looked as if nature might force her upon the rocks, there to be battered into a shapeless hulk. But then, as if by a miracle, she righted herself, answered her helm, and shot through the miraculously opened lane into the blue waters of the ocean beyond.
They were homeward bound.
A week later as the schooner was running up the Florida coast, Drew, who had gained strength magically after his enlightening interview with Parmalee, was standing with Ruth near the rail. Dusk was coming on, and a crescent moon was already showing its horns in the sky, still touched by the sun's aftermath.
In the hush of the twilight they had fallen silent. Ruth's hand was resting on the rail. Allen reached over gently and took it in his own. It was quivering, but she did not withdraw it.
"Ruth, look at me," he said, somewhat huskily. She lifted her eyes to his, but dropped them instantly.
"Ruth," he continued, "when I was hurt and was losing consciousness on the island, do you remember what you said to me?" She was silent. "Tell me, Ruth," he urged. "Do you?"
"How can I?" she said evasively. "I—I said so many things. I was so excited——"
"I remember," he said softly. "I will never forget. You said: 'Don't go, Allen, not until I tell you——' What was it you wished to tell me, Ruth?"
"Don't make me say it, Allen," she murmured, her gaze downcast.