'Yes, but it might end the other way,' her father interposed. 'And then I don't see where the fun would come in—though you would get your newspaper paragraph all the same.'
Ronald had been watching the clouds and the direction of the squalls on the loch; there was some appearance of a lull.
'We'll chance it now,' he said to the lad; and forthwith they shoved the boat into the water, and arranged the various things.
Miss Carry was laughing. She knew it was an adventure. Her father remonstrated; but she would not be hindered. She took her seat in the coble, and got hold of the rod; then they shoved off and jumped in; and presently she was paying out the line, to which was attached a 'silver doctor' about as long as her forefinger. Casting, of course, was beyond her skill, even had the wind been less violent; there was nothing for it but to trail the fly through these rushing and tumbling and hissing waves.
And at first everything seemed to go well enough—except that the coble rolled in the trough of the waves so that every minute she expected to be pitched overboard. They were drifting down the wind; with the two oars held hard in the water to retard the pace; and the dancing movement of the coble was rather enjoyable; and there was a kind of fierceness of sunlight and wind and hurrying water that fired her brain. These poor people lingering on the shore—what were they afraid of? Why, was there ever anything so delightful as this—the cry of the wind and the rush of the water; and everything around in glancing lights and vivid colours; for the lake was not all of that intense and driven blue, it became a beautiful roseate purple where the sunlight struck through the shallows on the long banks of ruddy sand. She would have waved her cap to those poor forlorn ones left behind, but that she felt both hands must be left free in case of emergency.
But alas! that temporary lull in which they had started was soon over. A sharper squall than any before came darkening and tearing across the loch; then another and another; until a downright gale was blowing, and apparently increasing every moment in violence. Whither were they drifting? They dared not run the coble ashore; all along those rocks a heavy sea was breaking white; they would have been upset and the boat stove in in a couple of minutes.
'This'll never do, Johnnie, lad,' she heard Ronald call out. 'We'll have to fight her back, and get ashore at the top.'
'Very well; we can try.'
And then the next moment all the situation of affairs seemed changed. There was no longer that too easy and rapid surging along of the coble, but apparently an effort to drive her through an impassable wall of water; while smash after smash on the bows came the successive waves, springing into the air, and coming down on the backs of the men with a rattling volley of spray. Nay, Miss Carry, too, got her Highland baptism—for all her crouching and shrinking and ducking; and her laughing face was running wet; and her eyes—which she would not shut, for they were fascinated with the miniature rainbows that appeared from time to time in the whirling spray—were half-blinded. But she did not seem to care. There was a fierce excitement and enjoyment in the struggle—for she could see how hard the men were pulling. And which was getting the better of the fight—this firm and patient endeavour, or the fell power of wind and hurrying seas?
And then something happened that made her heart stand still: there was a shriek heard above all the noise of the waves—and instinctively she caught up the rod and found the line whirling out underneath her closed fingers. What was it Ronald had exclaimed? 'Oh, thunder!' or some such thing; but the next moment he had called to her in a warning voice—