"I think he should be able to take care of himself," he said carefully.
"Ah, but he isn't. I must go and find him," she cried wildly. "What sort
of hands will he get into if he's left to himself?"
At that moment the last bell rang, and the boat began to move very
slowly away from the wharf--perhaps a minute early. Knollys told
Marcella afterwards that he guessed the captain had sailed early on
purpose, for just at that moment he saw a group of four people dripping
with rain rush on to the slippery boards of the jetty. They were four
who had been pretty noticeable as law-breakers during the whole trip--at
least, so the captain thought. Marcella gave a cry of hapless
disappointment as she saw Louis with Ole Fred, the red-haired man and
another. They were laughing wildly, and almost close enough to touch the
rails of the ship.
"Jump, Louis," she cried wildly.
"Some flow's--for you, ole girl!" he cried, grinning loosely. "Mished
bally boat! Catch, ole girl--flow's," and he threw a great bunch of
bedraggled-looking flowers that had very obviously been dropped several
times in the greasy mud. They fell helplessly into the water. Marcella
could not stop to think of anything sensible. All she could see to do
was to jump overboard to him and snatch him from the grinning men who
were lurching at his side.
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