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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

I even tested the boat's weight in sudden fear lest I could
not hold it alone. Then I whispered to the shapeless form crouched
beside me.
"Now," I said, "step on my knee, and I 'll help you over. Don't
hurry--only be quiet."
"How can I with this ridiculous thing on?"
"You must try. That's it; now just let me lift you--steady yourself
with the tackle."
She peered back at me over the side of the boat, her hair shining with
moisture.
"Now are you coming?"
"No; I shall have to remain here and lower the boat."
"But I don't know what to do."
"Listen, and I 'll tell you. Turn about and face the stern. Yes, that
is the way I mean; keep your hand on that rope so as not to make a
mistake. Now take this knife; don't drop it. The moment the boat
touches the water--an instant before, if possible--cut the rope you
have hold on. Then hurry forward and cut the other. You understand?"
"I--I think so; I am to cut this first and then the other."
"Yes; now don't fail. You see we are launching this boat above the
screw. There is bound to be suction. If you cut as I say, you will
drift off bow on to the course of the vessel, and will float free;
otherwise the boat is likely to be swamped. You see what I mean?"
She nodded.


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