"Give way," he shouted as he fell.
"Pull," Clay yelled, "pull, all of you."
He threw himself against the stern of the boat, and Langham and MacWilliams clutched its sides, and with their shoulders against it and their bodies half sunk in the water, shoved it off, free of the shore.
The shots continued fiercely, and two of the crew cried out and fell back upon the oars of the men behind them.
Madame Alvarez sprang to her feet and stood swaying unsteadily as the boat leaped forward.
"Take me back. Stop, I command you," she cried, "I will not leave those men. Do you hear?"
King caught her by the waist and dragged her down, but she struggled to free herself. "I will not leave them to be murdered," she cried. "You cowards, put me back."
"Hold her, King," Clay shouted. "We're all right. They're not firing at us."
His voice was drowned in the noise of the oars beating in the rowlocks, and the reports of the rifles. The boat disappeared in a mist of spray and moonlight, and Clay turned and faced about him. Langham and MacWilliams were crouching behind a rock and firing at the flashes in the woods.
"You can't stay there," Clay cried. "We must get back to Hope."