"Oh, that would be very charming, I think," said the latter lady: and they did not observe that she spoke half ironically.
"Who is on board the brig?" asked Ella.
"George Petherton is there now," said Hubert. "If the weather holds up fine, they hope to be able to save some more of the cargo; meanwhile George remains there in charge."
"Then let us go. We shall get back in time for dinner."
She knew George Petherton well. He was one of the oldest and steadiest boatmen round Easterby.
Without more ado, Ella stepped lightly into the boat and sat down. Hubert held out his hand to Mrs. Toynbee. But, at the last moment, that lady's heart failed her; in fact her bravery had been but put on. Involuntarily she drew back a step or two.
"There is not the slightest cause for alarm, ma'am," said Hubert.
But the boat was a very small one, and looked dreadfully unsafe, she thought. Then the wreck was more than two miles away, and what was it that Mr. Stone had just said about there being a pleasant breeze when you got away from shore? How could any breeze be pleasant at sea?
"I--I don't feel very well, and I think, my dear, I must ask you to excuse me," she said to Ella, with a little quaver of the voice.
"You are not afraid, are you?" asked Ella, with a smile. "The breeze when we get out will do you good."