Ruth explained, with the impatience of superiority. “Why, don’chu know? ‘Hold the fort, f’r I am comin’, Jesus signals still.’ Betty said ’f he didn’t come he’d send some one.”
“I’m sure God sent him,” Betty said, her voice unsteady.
“Bress de Lawd,” Mandy chimed in. “Now you git us off’n this yere busted house, Mr. Man, fer I don’ like no rampagin’ roun’ thisaway on no ocean v’yages.”
Betty explained that he could not get them off just yet. They would have to wait to be rescued.
“Whaffor he come ’f he ain’ gwine rescue us?” Mandy sniffed.
The girl smiled into the eyes of her lover. She knew why he had come, and in his presence by some magic the fear had dropped from her heart. The current dragging at their tottering place of refuge could not shake her sure confidence that all was well with them.
Hollister looked the situation over with the trained eye of an engineer. He must get them to the rocks before what was left of the house collapsed. But how? He could not take them with him through the waves beating against the sandstone. It was not certain that he could make a safe landing himself.
But if he could reach the flat ledge above, he might contrive some kind of bridge out of the dead and down trees lying there. It would be a hazardous affair, but he was in no position to be choice about ways and means.
Briefly he explained to Betty his plan. She clung to him, tremulously, reluctant to let him go.
“Must you?” she murmured, and shuddered at the black waters rushing past. “Must you go in again? Couldn’t we just wait here?”