If he would only tell her that he loved her, the waters might sweep over the narrow neck before they two reached it! But he did not speak again.
The land tapered off, leading to the neck, and he felt the ground grow moist beneath his feet. He went forward, keeping her at arm's length, but afraid to let go her hand, lest he should lose her in the mist. He put down his foot and he could feel the water creeping up around his boot and filling it.
"The tide is covering the neck," he said briefly, stooping down and unfastening his boots, after which he stood upright, breathing deeply, to gather all his strength. Then he came closer to her and stooped and raised her in his arms and rose again, pressing forward.
She pressed her hands on his shoulders, and struggling, tried to push herself free.
"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.
"Afraid of you!" and she laughed, but the laugh was swallowed up in the mist.
"Then you must let me carry you across."
"What do you think I am?" she asked fiercely. "Let you carry me with that wound in your back! I am as strong as you!"
She struggled again to free herself.
"Oh, no, you're not," he cried gladly, "and you'll be safer so!"