It was Doll. Lord Newhaven pushed her off and jumped in.
Doll was almost speechless. His breath came in long gasps. The sweat hung on his forehead. He pointed to the black, upturned boat.
"This one leaks," said Lord Newhaven, sharply.
"It's got to go all the same, and sharp," said Doll, hoarsely.
Lord Newhaven seized up a fishing-tin and thrust it into Doll's hands.
"You bale while I row," he said, and he rowed as he had never rowed before.
"Who is it?" he said, as the boat shot out into the open.
Doll was baling like a madman.
"Scarlett," he said. "And he's over one of the springs. He'll get cramp."
Lord Newhaven strained at the oars.