Frantically I sought to get a hold on the boat. By great good luck I managed to clutch at the keel as she turned upside down. She was floating and I was clinging to her with all my might. Temporarily I was safe. . . but it could not last, I was well aware.
Could I swim to the shore? I could feel the water saturating my skirts and making them heavy. They were dragging me down. I had swum very little; Esmeralda and I had bathed in the sea at Brighton when our governess had taken us for holidays there, but then we had gone into bathing machines set up on the beach and emerged from them straight into the water and just let the waves toss us about as we hung on to the ropes. I could manage a few strokes but could I reach the Island, hampered as I was by my clothes?
My hold on the boat was precarious. I shouted: "Help!" My voice sounded feeble. Overhead gulls wheeled, screeching in what seemed to me a mocking fashion.
"Oh, God," I prayed, "let someone find me." And into my mind there flashed an image of Silva in another boat. They never found her but the boat was washed up.
Oh, this treacherous sea! How powerful it seemed even in its present moderate mood.
Should I try for the shore? I could feel my wet skirts wrapping themselves around my legs and I knew it would be disastrous to attempt it, and yet with every passing second my hold on the Ellen was becoming more and more slight.
My hands were growing numb. I can't cling much longer, I thought. Is this the end? It was strange that it should all have led to this. No, no. Someone would come. Jago would come. Yes, it must be Jago. If only I could will him to be taking a stroll along the cliffs.
"Jago!" I called. "Jago."
I'm slipping, I thought. I can't hold on much longer. What is it like to drown?
I would make an attempt to swim. Who knew, I might manage it. It was said that when one was in danger nature provided extra reserves of strength. I wouldn't die, I was going to fight for my life.
I heard a shout and it was as though my prayer had been answered, but I dared not turn to look towards the shore for fear I should lose my grip on the boat.
The shout came to me over the water. "Hold on, Miss Ellen. I be on the way."
Slack!
He was near to me now. I knew that he swam like a fish; I had seen him twisting and turning in the water, as much at home there as he was on land.
" Tis all right, Miss Ellen. I be here now. . . ."
How small he was! How fragile! He had the body of a child, but of course he was not much more.
"There now. Here I be." His voice was soothing, comforting, as though I were a wounded bird.
"Now now, I be taking 'ee to the shore."
I still clung to the boat.
"I... can't swim . . . very well, Slack."
"Never 'ee mind, Miss Ellen. I be here."
I released my grip on the boat and for a moment was submerged. I was on the surface again and I felt Slack's hand under my chin holding my head above the water.
The boat had moved away from us and the shore seemed a long way off.
How can this delicate boy bring me safely ashore? I wondered.
Then I heard Jago's voice.
"I'm coming."
Then I knew that everything was going to be all right.
I remember vaguely being brought onto the land. I remember Jago's strong arms about me as he carried me to the castle. I remember being laid on my bed and soothing drinks being brought to me. I was wrapped in blankets and hot-water bottles were placed round me. I was told I was to stay there for a day or two. I had had a shock which was greater than I would realize at the time. I had come near to death by drowning.
As I lay in my bed I could not stop thinking of the terrifying moment when I had noticed that the boat was leaking. I knew that could have been the end of me if Slack had not been there—and later Jago. I still wondered whether little Slack could have brought me in; and I rejoiced that Jago had come. The moment I had heard his voice I had ceased to be afraid.
Jago came and sat by my bed.
"What happened?" he asked. "Do you feel you can talk about it, Ellen?"
"Of course. Everything seemed all right until suddenly I noticed that the boat was leaking."
"That should never have happened. You must have struck something when you brought her in. The boats ought to be thoroughly examined before they are taken out."
"It was all right at first. I had been in it for about ten minutes. I was drifting away from the shore when suddenly I noticed."
"It has happened on other occasions. Thank God I came along when I did."
"Slack too."
"Yes, he's a good boy but he's a weakling. He might not have been strong enough to bring you in."
"I felt my wet clothes dragging me down."
"Yes, that was where the great danger lay. My dear Ellen, if anything had happened to you . . ." His face was distorted with real emotion. "It's a lesson to us though. We have to be very careful in future."
"Are you going to suggest that I give up rowing alone?"
"It mightn't be a bad idea. At the moment I'm going to suggest that you stay in bed for a while. The effects of this sort of thing can be greater than you realize."
"I haven't said 'Thank you' for saving my life."
He rose and bent over me. "All the thanks I need is to see you safe. Don't forget
