A few minutes earlier he had
put forth the suave suggestion that Hozier should be given the
speediest chance of securing the girl's safety. That was politic;
perhaps his stanch nerve was yielding to the strain, now that the two
islanders were gone on their doubtful quest. Be that as it may, his
attitude did not encourage light conversation. Even Coke withheld some
jibe at the unfortunate mate's expense. A chill silence fell on the
little group. The more imaginative among them were calculating the
exact kind of lurch taken by the unstable raft that would mean
"drowning without a cry."
Thus the minutes sped, until a dim shape emerged from the opposite
blackness. It came unheard, growing from nothing into something with
ghostly subtlety. Iris, a prey to many emotions, managed to stifle the
exclamation of alarm that rose unbidden. But Hozier read her distress
in a hardly audible sob.
"It is our friend, Marcel," he whispered. "So Domingo has made good
his landing. Be brave! The sea is quite calm. This man has been to
the island and back in less than a quarter of an hour."
His confidence gave her new courage. She even tried to turn danger
itself into a jest.
"We seem to be living in spasms just now," she said. "We certainly
crowd a good deal of excitement into a very few minutes.
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