"Not with you," she answered quickly.
"Then we must swim ashore. Another squall and the boat may strike us," he said fearfully.
"I cannot swim," she said, for the first time feeling the fear of the dark water around them.
"No need. Hold on to my shoulder. Don't let go—not even if we go under a wave. I will bring you up safely again. You understand?"
"Yes," she obeyed, and with a strange feeling of perfect protection, she gave herself up to his guidance.
George struck out in a bold stroke. For a time he swam with rapid progress. Then his stroke slackened and he made decided effort.
Edith had been watching the fast nearing shore. Now she watched his face. It was growing white and drawn. She gave a little scream and unconsciously tightened her hold. By a desperate effort George kept them above water.
"Relax your hold!" he shouted, hoarsely, and she could see the words wasted precious strength.
She tried to calm herself. Her heart beat wildly. Never once did she look from George's deathlike face.
On he swam, straining every nerve and muscle. At times his eyes almost closed.