He went back to the side of the fishing smack where he had left the skiff, then he stifled an oath, for the painter he had fastened 72 loosely to the rope-ladder had come untied and the skiff had drifted away.
Mrs. Heriot uttered a shrill scream when she saw what had happened. She was really not in the least frightened; she loved sensation and what she was pleased to call "thrills" and it was rather exciting to find herself in such a predicament with a man as good-looking and difficult as Christopher Lawless.
"Whatever shall we do?" she demanded in horror, and then, with a quick glance at his face: "Oh, you don't think that I let the boat go on purpose?"
She had not done so, but probably would have done had it occurred to her. Chris answered vehemently that such an idea had never entered his head, which was the truth. He was far too indifferent and unsuspecting to credit her with such an action.
"But what on earth are we to do?" she asked again, and Chris laughed rather mirthlessly.
"I must swim out and bring it back, of course,"
He took off his coat as he spoke and Mrs. Heriot screamed afresh.
"You might be drowned! The water looks awful in the moonlight! What will become of me here alone if anything happens to you?"
"Nothing will happen to me or you," said Chris impatiently, "and we can't stay here all night, can we?"
He shook off her detaining hand and clambered up the ship's side.