It was thus that Courtenay found them, when he appeared at the door after a lapse of time which none of them could measure.
“Now, Miss Maxwell, you first,” he said with an air of authority which betokened some new move of utmost importance.
“First—for what?” she managed to ask.
“You are going off in a boat. It is your best chance. Please be quick.”
“No, Miss Baring goes before me. Then the others, I shall come last.”
“Have it as you will. I addressed you because you were nearest the door. Come along, Miss Baring.”
He waited for no further words. He grasped Isobel’s arm and led her out into the darkness. It seemed to be a very long time before he returned.
“Now, Mrs. Somerville,” he said, but that unhappy lady was so unnerved that he had to carry her.
“Can you manage to bring the maid?” he asked over his shoulder to Elsie. This trust in her drove away the weakness which had conquered her under Isobel’s taunts. She stooped over the maid, but the girl wrestled and fought with her in frantic dread of the passage along the deck and of facing that howling sea in a small boat.
Elsie herself was almost worn out when Courtenay came back. He took in the situation at a glance. He picked up the shrieking maid in his strong arms.