'Step in and take the oar,' said Elijah impatiently. 'We must get off, and house the old woman as soon as possible, or she will be death-struck.'
The flames were reflected in the water about the boat, it seemed to float in fire.
'Take the oar!' ordered Elijah gruffly.
Mehalah obeyed mechanically. He thrust the boat off, and cast himself in.
No word was spoken for some time, Mehalah's eyes were fixed on her burning home, with despair. Her brain was numb, her heart oppressed. Mrs. Sharland wailed and wept, and uttered loud reproaches against Mehalah, which the girl heard not. She was stunned, and could not take in the situation.
The boat shot past the head of the Ray.
There stood the low broad bulk of the Burnt Hill. Mehalah roused herself.
Elijah looked over his shoulder and laughed.
'Up Salcot Fleet!' he said shortly.
'What!' suddenly exclaimed Mehalah, as a pang shot through her heart. 'Whither are we going?'