"I knew you'd come," she said with quiet confidence.
"Aren't you afraid?"
"I _was_ afraid."
A roll of the ship brought the chill water up about her feet. She
shivered and winced. Stooping he caught her under the knees, and lifted
her to his arms. Feeling the easy buoyancy of his strength beneath her,
she lapsed against his shoulder, wholly trustful, wholly content.
Through the passage he splashed, around the turn, and up the broad
companionway. Not until he had found a chair in the near corner of the
lower saloon did he set her down. Released from his arms, she realized
with a swift shock the loss of all sense of security. She shot a quick
glance at him, half terrified, half wistful. But the Tyro was now all
for action.
"What clothes do you most need?" he asked sharply.
"Clothes? I don't know." She found it hard to adjust the tumult which
had suddenly sprung up within her, to such considerations.
"Shoes and stockings. A heavy coat. Your warmest dress--where is it?
What else?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Go back after your things."
"You mustn't! I won't let you. It's dangerous."
"Later it may be. Not now."