"
"You 'll need a waterproof of some kind--it's raining outside. Wait a
moment; there will be a coat in some of these staterooms."
I found one, a fisherman's slicker, and wrapped her in it. It was a
world too big, but I tightened the belt, and turned up the skirts, so
she managed to walk. It would serve to keep her dry, although worn
under indignant protest.
"Oh, I can't," she proclaimed. "Why, I must be a perfect fright."
"Not to me; besides, it's dark as Erebus. Here, let me take your hand;
I know every step of the way."
I led her forward slowly, so that the flapping of the oilskins against
the stair-rail would not be heard. The steady patter of rain on the
deck planks drowned what little noise we made, and as we emerged into
the hood a gust of wind drove the moisture into our faces. I could
feel my heart thump, yet it was more because of her proximity than any
excitement of adventure. So far as I could perceive, peering out into
the storm with hand shading my eyes, the way was clear, and, bidding
her stoop low, we slipped back along the narrow deck passage into the
shadow cast by the boat. Here, protected as we were by the bulge of
the cabin, there was slight probability of our being observed, and I
stood up, again examining the tackle to reassure myself of its proper
working.
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