Suddenly, the faint sound of what seemed a far-off shout fell upon her straining ears. Even while she asked herself whether it was only fancy, it grew more distinct. Help must be approaching. The revelation was too much for her. Hubert's blows grew fainter in her ears, and she fell on the deck bereft of sense and feeling.
[CHAPTER X.]
RESCUER AND RESCUED
It seemed to be a perilous situation: lying on the brig there, alone and insensible, without certainty of rescue. But help had come: and when Miss Winter opened her eyes to consciousness, the first sight she awoke to was the face of Edward Conroy, bent tenderly over her. Kneeling on one knee, he was chafing her hands gently; and at a little distance stood two of the Easterby boatmen.
"You are better now?" said Mr. Conroy. "Yes, I am better now," Ella replied mechanically. Her mind just yet only recognised one fact, that Conroy was by her side. He assisted her to rise. When she stood up and looked round, all the events of the afternoon flashed across her mind in a moment. What happy accident had brought Conroy, of all people in the world, to her rescue? But it was not a time to ask questions: that could be done afterwards.
"The sooner we get ashore the better," said Conroy. "Are you well enough to venture?"
"Quite well enough," answered Ella, with a rush of tears. "A little while ago I thought I should never set foot on shore again."
"But what became of the boat that brought you to the wreck?--and what has become of Mr. Stone?"
"The rope that held the boat became unfastened, and the tide carried it away," she slowly answered, after a long pause.
But Hubert Stone, she mentally asked herself--what could have become of him: was he below still? Conroy repeated the question. He had heard from Mrs. Toynbee that it was Stone who had rowed Ella to the wreck.