But he is coming near, and she must not let
the chance slip. How should she hail him? In what words make known her
peril? She felt stupid, just when she needed her readiest wit. He was
almost abreast the vessel before Dexie found her voice, and then in
frightened tones came the cry:
"Help, soldier! Help!"
The soldier turned his head, and rested on his oars as he listened.
"Help, soldier! Save me, I beg of you!"
The pleading tones told that the cry was from someone in trouble, and a few
strokes brought him to the vessel's side.
"What's the matter, miss? What's wrong that you are calling for help? What
can I do for you?"
"Oh, take me away from this vessel! You are going to the city, are you
not?"
"Yes; but perhaps I shall get myself into some scrape if I take you away,"
and a smile lit up his face for a moment. "How came you here? Are you here
against your will?"
"Yes, and no. Take me off quickly, and I'll explain," she replied,
hurriedly, for a movement below reached her ears.
She was soon seated opposite her deliverer, who looked at her curiously,
but said nothing till they were quite a distance from the vessel; then,
resting on his oars, he said:
"Now, tell me how you came to be on that vessel; but, first, will you tell
me your name?"
"Oh! must I--" and Dexie dropped her head.
Pages:
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392