In another moment all the members of the party had left their seats, and
were standing by Rob's side, gazing disconsolately at the lost boat.
Already it had been carried to a considerable distance, and the four men
stared into each other's faces in horrified bewilderment.
"This is a nice state of things!"
"What _is_ to be done? How on earth are we to get her back?"
"She has floated so far--too far, I am afraid, for anyone to swim after
her."
"I could not last out such a distance. It seems a risky thing to
attempt, much too risky. It would not improve matters to have a
drowning case into the bargain. I am afraid none of us dare attempt
it."
Then there was a pause, while the girls huddled together in a group,
watching the men's faces with anxious glances. Arthur stood frowning
and biting his moustache, his eyes bright with anger.
"I should like to shoot myself for my stupidity! Why could I not have
thought of the tide when we were beaching the boat? It would have been
just as easy to drag her up a few yards higher, and then we should have
been safe. We should not have been in such a stupid hurry to be
finished, but I heard Peggy's voice calling to me and--"
"Oh no, no! Don't say it--don't say it! Arthur, Arthur, don't say it
was my fault!" cried Peggy in a voice of such agonised distress as
startled the ears of her companions. Arthur's eyes turned from the boat
for the first time, and he hastened to her side.
"Why, Peg," he cried, "what's the matter, dear? Nobody was blaming you;
there is not a shadow of blame to be laid on you. The fault is ours for
not giving more thought to what we were about. Rob and I ought to know
how to beach a boat by this time, seeing the amount of yachting we have
done in our day, but, indeed, I don't need to blame any one but myself;
I was in charge, and should have taken proper care."
"Well, it is not much use discussing who is to blame; the mischief is
done, and we had better set our wits to work to remedy it," cried the
little chaperon briskly. "If the boat cannot be brought back, I suppose
it means that we must stay here until--"
"Oh, how exciting! It's just like the _Swiss Family Robinson_, and
_Leila on the Desert Island_. It's as good as being shipwrecked,
without any of the bother," interrupted Mellicent gushingly. "Now,
then, we must make a tent, and examine the trees to see which are good
to eat, and catch crabs and lobsters, and shoot the birds as they fly
past, and Professor Reid shall be the father--the wise, well-informed
man who knows what everything is, and how everything should be done--and
Esther shall be his wife, and--"
"Mellicent, don't! Don't be silly, dear!" pleaded Esther gently. "It
is not a subject for jokes. Seriously, Arthur, how long may we have to
stay? Is there any chance of being left here for the night?"
"Not the slightest, I should say. If we don't get back in time for our
drive to the station, the flymen will give the alarm, and some one will
come over to see what has gone wrong. The worst that may happen is that
we shall have to wait until the men get back from their regatta, but you
need have no fear of remaining for the night."
"But in any case it will be impossible to catch our train."
"I fear it will. We shall have to make the best of it, and camp at the
inn until morning. It's unfortunate, but there are worse troubles at
sea. Don't look so miserable, Peggy; I promise you, you shall come to
no harm."
"But, mother--Mrs Asplin--what will they think? If we don't get back
until late, can we send a telegram to them? It is such a tiny place
that the office might be closed."
Arthur's face clouded over, for this was a view of the case which had
not occurred to him, and former experiences of country villages did not
tend to reassure him.
"I can't tell you. I will drive to the station and do my best to send a
wire from there, but that's all I can say. There is one comfort: they
know at home that if we miss the seven o'clock train, we are fixed for
the night, so they won't be as anxious as they might otherwise have
been. They will probably guess pretty well what has happened."
He spoke with an assumption of confidence, but Peggy was not to be
deceived, and she turned on her heel and walked along the shore,
wringing her hands together, and catching her breath in short, gasping
sobs.
"Help me! Oh, help me!" she repeated over and over again in a quivering
voice, and the cry was addressed to no human ear. She was speaking
direct to One who understood her trouble, who knew without being told
the reason of her anxiety. Not in vain had Mrs Asplin set an example
of a Christian's faith and trust before the girl's quick-seeing eyes.
Peggy had never forgotten her sweet calm on hearing the doctor's
verdict, or that other interview in the vicarage garden when she herself
had first resolved to join the great army of Christ, and the habit was
growing daily stronger to turn to Him for help in all the difficult
paths of life. Now in "this moment of intensest anxiety her first
impulse was to leave her companions," and go away by herself where she
could pour out her heart in a deep, voiceless prayer. She walked round
to the further side of the little islet, and seating herself on the same
stone which an hour earlier had been the scene of her _tete-a-tete_ with
Hector, covered her face with her hands and rocked to and fro in an
abandonment of grief. They could not catch the train ... They could
send no telegram of reassurement; the night would pass--the long, long
night, and no word would be received of their safety ... For her own
father and mother she was not seriously concerned, for they were too old
travellers not to allow for unexpected delays, and had moreover
prophesied more than once that such a scatter-brained party would be
certain to miss their train; but Mrs Asplin with her exaggerated ideas
of distance, her terror of the sea, her nervous forebodings of evil--how
would she endure those long waiting hours? With her imaginative eye,
Peggy saw before her the scene in the drawing-room at the vicarage, as
the hour of arrival passed by without bringing the return of the
travellers; saw the sweet, worn face grow even paler and more strained,
the thin hands pressed against the heart. She recalled the pathetic
plea which had been made to her, and her own vow of remembrance, and
once more the responsibility of the position seemed heavier than she
could bear. "Oh, help me!" she murmured once more. "Help me _now_!"
and then a voice spoke to her by name, and she looked up, to see Rob's
anxious face looking into hers.
"What is it, Peggy? Something troubles you--something more than you
will tell the others. Can you tell me? Can I help you, dear?"
It was the old Rob back again at the first hint of trouble, the old Rob,
with no trace of the laboured pleasantness of the past weeks, but with
eyes full of faithful friendship. Peggy gave a gasp of relief, and
clutched his arm with an eager hand.
"Oh, Rob, yes! I'll tell you! It was a secret, but I must tell some
one, I must have some one to consult." And then in hurried accents she
confided to him her promise to Mrs Asplin, and the sad reason which
made it so necessary to preserve her from alarm. "You see, Rob, it is
very serious," she said in conclusion. "It may be a case of life and
death, for the doctor said she couldn't bear any strain, and when I
promised, knowing so well all that it meant, she will feel she has good
reason for fear, if we do not return. All the night long, and both her
girls here! Oh, Rob, think what it will be! I feel as if I could not
bear it; is if I could run all the way home to comfort her. You always
helped me, Rob; you used to find a way for me out of my old childish
troubles--do help me now! Think of _some_ way by which we can get
back."
Rob looked at her fixedly, and his lips smiled, but his eyes were grave
and steady.
"I'll try, Peggy," he said, "I'll do my best. There is nothing I would
not do for Mrs Asplin and--_you_! Remember always, whatever happens,
that nothing you could have done for me to-day would have made me so
happy as asking my help in your trouble." He turned away as he spoke
the last word, for the rest of the party were now approaching along the
sands, bearing with them a branch of a tree, and the table-cloth which
had been used for lunch. It had occurred to Arthur that if a flag could
be erected at this particular spot, it might possibly catch the eyes of
the fishermen, and attract them to call at the island on their way to
the shore, and the idea had been enthusiastically welcomed by his
friends. It is astonishing how speedily the charms of a situation are
minimised when that situation becomes a necessity instead of a choice.
Before the discovery of the missing boat, the island had seemed all that
was charming and romantic; now it seemed suddenly to have become chilly
and forsaken, a bank of sand in a waste of water; a prison-house rather
than a pleasure-ground. Eunice began to shiver, Mrs Bryce felt certain
that the grass was damp, and the professor was full of anxiety about his
_fiancee_. One and all they were thankful for the occupation of
erecting the flagstaff, and Arthur had no lack of assistants in his
task. The hole was dug out to the proper depth with the assistance of
such motley tools as the ferrules of sticks and parasols, and the stones
which were scattered along the beach, while the cloth was sewed to the
stick by the careful Esther, who never by any chance travelled about
without a needle full of cotton in her pocket, in company with such
other usefuls as sticking-plaster, hair-pins, and camphor pills. The
camphor pills were brought forth now, and received a very different
welcome from that which would have been afforded them an hour before.
Even Peggy took her turn with the rest, and though the men drew the line
at such an exhibition of weakness, they hinted that an additional cup of
tea would be acceptable in its stead.
"We have done all we can, so now let us go back to our meal, and be as
jolly as we can," said Arthur.
"We will brew a fresh lot of tea and drown our sorrows in the bowl; and
if the viands give out, Mellicent can get us bread from the bread-trees
and milk from the cocoanuts. Rob can climb up and bring one down, as he
is accustomed to savage regions. Where _is_ Rob, by the bye? He was
here ten minutes ago."
"He walked over to the other end of the island. I'll go round and give
him a call," Hector said; and in default of anything better to do his
companions followed in a long, straggling line, but no sign of Rob did
they find, only a little heap of clothing on the shore--a pair of boots,
a coat, and waistcoat, and a sailor hat, which told their own tale
plainly enough, even without the sight of the dark head which could
presently be observed bobbing up and down between the waves. Rob had
swum off to try to recover the boat, and was risking his life in the
effort!--For a moment horror held his friends dumb, then the men broke
into a chorus of denunciations.
"He'll never do it! He had no right to go off like that without
consulting us--without saying a word to a soul! A foolhardy trick!"
"He knew we would not let him try it. He is a capital swimmer, but it's
a stiff pull, and he can't catch her up, for she will drift with the
tide further and further away."
"_Will_ she? Are you sure? Does she seem to you any further off now
than she was a quarter of an hour ago? I don't think she is. I can see
her just as distinctly. Ah! I believe I understand it now. She has
drifted on to a sandbank, and is not moving at all. Good old Rob! He
knows what he is about. If he can only hold out, he'll get her sure
enough."
"If--yes, but if he does not? If he gets cramped or exhausted, there is
no one to help him. We should have to stand here helpless, and see him
sink. It was mad--mad--he should not have risked it! I'll give him a
piece of my mind when he gets back!" cried Arthur hotly, and then, "Good
old Rob!" he added in another voice. "Good old Rob! Just like him to
steal away without saying a word to a soul. Just like him to think of
every one else before himself. Give him a cheer, boys! Give him a
cheer to help him along."
And what a cheer that was that burst forth in response to his words! It
rang over the sea, eloquent with all the hope, and fear, and longing
that were beating in eight anxious hearts; once and yet again it
sounded, with Peggy's high treble ringing out over all the rest.
"Bravo, Rob! Bravo! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"
The dark head turned, a white arm waved in the air, and then Rob settled
himself once more to his task, while his friends watched in tense
anxiety. The professor drew Esther's hand through his arm and clasped
it unashamed, and Arthur turned abruptly aside, putting his hands to his
face.
"I can't watch him;" he cried brokenly. "I must go away. Come and talk
to me till it is over--help me to bear it!" His eyes met Peggy's as he
finished speaking, passed on with an unsatisfied expression, and
fastened upon Eunice. "You!" his expression said as plainly as words
could say it, "I mean _you_!" and Eunice followed without a word.
At another time the episode would have attracted universal attention,
but the four remaining members of the party were so much engrossed with
their own thoughts that hardly a glance was cast after the retreating
couple. Mrs Bryce was eager to take Major Darcy aside, and ask his
advice as a soldier and campaigner as to what steps could be taken to
prepare for a possible night's vigil. "Hope for the best and prepare
for the worst," was her motto; and she had already hit on a spot where,
by pegging down the branches of trees, and fastening cloaks over the
gaps, a very fair tent could be manufactured. She bore Hector away to
survey it, and Peggy and Mellicent were left alone together, the latter
staring with curious eyes in her companion's face. An hour ago Peggy
had been the most agitated of the party, and had showed a terror
inconsistent with her character, yet now, when there seemed an even
greater need for anxiety, she was calm and quiet, a little white image
of composure.
"Peggy," she whispered softly, "aren't you frightened? Do you think he
will--get there, Peggy? Do you think he will be--safe?"
"I know he will be safe, Mellicent."
"But they say it is so dangerous! They say it is a risk. He _might_ be
drowned!"
"He will be safe, Mellicent. I am quite sure of it."
"But, oh, Peggy, how can you tell? How can you be sure?"
Peggy's eyes came round with a flash, and stared full in Mellicent's
face.
"Because I love him, Mellicent! Because we belong to one another, Rob
and I, and I cannot live without him. Because I have asked God to take
care of him for me, and I know He will do it!"
Mellicent shrank back aghast. What a confession to have heard from
Peggy's own lips! Peggy, the reserved and dignified; Peggy, who was so
scrupulously reticent about her own feelings! She could hardly believe
her ears. It seemed unnatural, alarming, almost shocking. Her eyes
dropped to the ground, she shuffled uneasily to and fro, and crept
quietly away.