CHAPTER XXV
A RESCUE
Even now when it is only a memory I do not like to look back upon that twenty minutes. My poor girl was hysterical, but decided. Neither argument nor entreaty could move her from her resolution to save my life, no matter what the cost. I pleaded in vain.
"I can't let you die, Jack—I can't—I can't." So she answered all my appeals, with a kind of hopeless despair that went straight to my heart.
Through my remonstrances there broke a high-pitched voice jabbering something in Spanish of a sort. The sound of running footsteps on the deck above came to us. Some one called a warning.
"Keep back there or we'll fire!"
Then my heart leaped, for across the water came the cool, steady voice of Blythe.
"My man, I want to talk with Bothwell."
More feet pattered back and forth on the deck, and among the hurrying steps was one sharp and strong.
"Good evening, Captain Blythe. You're rather late for a call, aren't you? Mr. Sedgwick was in better time. We have to thank him for an hour's pleasant entertainment."