“It’ll be as much as you’ll do this minute,” said Jimmy, “to get back
the way you came, and you’ll only do that same by taking the sails off
of her and poling her along with an oar.”
Priscilla surrendered. It is, after all, impossible to sail a boat
without water. The Tortoise lay afloat in a pool, but the Finilaun end
of the passage was hardly better than a lane-way of wet stones. At the
other end there was still high water, but very little of it. Priscilla
acted promptly in the emergency. She had no desire to lie imprisoned for
hours on Craggeen, she had lain the day before on the bank off Inishark.
She took the sails off the Tortoise and, standing on the thwart
amidships, began poling the boat back into the open water at the
south-eastern end of the passage. Jimmy, also poling, followed in his
boat.
Miss Rutherford, the broken rudder still on her knees, and Frank, were
left on shore.
“Do you think,” she said, “that Priscilla intends to maroon us here?
She’s gone without us.”
“I’m awfully sorry,” said Franks “It’s not my fault. I couldn’t stop
her.”
“She’s got all the food there is, even the peppermint creams. I wish I’d
thought of snatching that parcel from the boat before she started. She’d
have come back when she found out they were gone. I wonder whether Jimmy
finished the soup? I wonder what he’s done with the Primus stove. It
wasn’t mine, and I know Professor Wilder sets a value on it. Perhaps
they’ll pick it up on their way and return it. If they do I shan’t so
much mind what happens to us.”
“I don’t think they’ll really leave us here,” said Frank. “Even
Priscilla wouldn’t do that. I wish I could walk down to the corner of
the island and see where they’ve gone.”
Jimmy Kinsella appeared, strolling quietly along the shore.
“The young lady says, Miss,” he said “that if you wouldn’t mind walking
down to the far side of the gravel spit, which is where she has the
boats, she’d be glad, for she wouldn’t like to be eating what’s in the
boat without you’d be there to have some yourself.”
“Priscilla is perfectly splendid,” said Miss Rutherford, “and we’re not
going to be marooned after all. Come along, Frank.”
“The young lady says, Miss,” said Jimmy, “that if you’d go to her the
best way you can by yourself that I’d give my arm to the gentleman and
get him along over the stones so as not to hurt his leg and that same
won’t be easy for the shore’s mortal rough.”
Miss Rutherford refused to desert Frank. She recognised that the shore
was all that Jimmy said it was. Large slippery boulders were strewed
about it for fifty yards or so between the place where she stood and the
gravel spit. She insisted on helping Jimmy to transport Frank. In the
end they descended upon Priscilla, all three abreast. Frank, with one
arm round Jimmy’s neck and one round Miss Rutherford’s, hobbled bravely.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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