Then he shouted to one of the men:
"Sandy, we will not try the quay the night: we will go into the Martyr's Bay."
"Ay, ay, sir!"
It was about a quarter of an hour after that—almost benumbed with fear—she discovered that the boat was in smooth water; and then there was a loud clatter of the sail coming down; and she heard the two sailors calling to each other, and one of them seemed to have got overboard. There was absolutely nothing visible—not even a distant light; but it was raining heavily. Then she knew that Macleod had moved away from her; and she thought she heard a splash in the water; and then a voice beside her said,—
"Gertrude, will you not get up? You must let me carry you ashore."
And she found herself in his arms—carried as lightly as though she had been a young lamb or a fawn from the hills; but she knew from the slow way of his walking that he was going through the sea. Then he set her on the shore.
"Take my hand," said he.
"But where is papa?"
"Just behind us," said he, "on Sandy's shoulders. Sandy will bring him along. Come, darling!"
"But where are we going?"