Part 56 (1/2)

The water was was.h.i.+ng roughly against the running boards; to an onlooker the car would have had the appearance of being afloat, hub-deep, at sea.

Slowly, slowly, slowly they were still moving. The car stopped short. The engine was dead. Rachael touched her starter, touched it again and again. No use. The car had stopped. The rain struck in noisy sheets against the curtains. The sea gurgled and rushed about them. Derry moaned softly.

And now the full madness of the attempted expedition struck her for the first time. She had never thought that, at worst, she could not go back. What now? Should they stand here on the s.h.i.+fting sand of the Bar until the tide fell--it was not yet full.

Rachael felt her heart beating quick with terror. It began to seem like a feverish dream.

Neither maid spoke, perhaps neither one realized the full extent of the calamity. With the confidence of those who do not understand the workings of a car, they waited to have it start again.

But both girls screamed when suddenly a new voice was heard.

Rachael, starting nervously as a man's figure came about the car out of the black night, in the next second saw, with a great rush of relief, that it was Ruddy Simms. He was a mighty fellow, devoted to the Gregorys. He proceeded rather awkwardly to explain that he hadn't liked to think of their trying to cross the Bar, and so had come with them on the running board.

”Oh, Ruddy, how grateful I am to you!” Rachael said. ”Perhaps you can go back and get us a tow? What can we do?”

”Stuck?” asked Ruddy, wading as unconcernedly about the car as if the sun were s.h.i.+ning on the scene.

”No, I don't think so, not yet. But I can feel the road under us giving already. And I've killed my engine!”

Ruddy deliberated.

”Won't start, eh?”

”She simply WON'T!”

”Ain't got a crank, have ye?”

Rachael stared.

”Why, yes, we have, under my seat here. But is there a chance that she might start on cranking?” she said eagerly.

”Dun't know,” Ruddy said non-committally.

Rachael was instantly on her feet, and after some groping and adjusting, the cranking was attempted. Failure. Ruddy went bravely at it again. Failure. Again Rachael touched the starter.

”No use!” she said with a sinking heart.

But Ruddy was bred of sea-folk who do not expect quick results. He tugged away again vigorously, and again after that. And suddenly-- the most delicious sound that Rachael's ears had ever heard--there was the sucking and plunging that meant success. The car panted like a giant revived, and Ruddy stood back in the merciless green light and sent Rachael a smile. His homely face, running rain, looked at her as bright as an angel's.

”Dun't know as I'd stand there, s'deep in my tracks!” shouted Ruddy.

Gingerly, timidly, she pushed the car on some ten feet. ”What I's thinking,” suggested Ruddy then, coming to put his face in close to hers, and shouting over the noise of wind and water, ”is this: if I was to walk ahead of ye, kinder feeling for the road with my feet, then you could come after, d'ye see?”

”Oh, Ruddy, do you think we can make it, then?” Rachael's face was wet with tears.

”Dun't know,” he said. He took off his immense boots and gray socks, and rolled up his wet trousers, the better to feel every inch of rise or fall in the ground beneath his feet, and Millie held these for him as if it were a sacred charge.

And then, with the full light of the lamps illumining his big figure, and with the water rus.h.i.+ng and gurgling about them, and the rain pouring down as if it were an actual deluge, they made the crossing at Clark's Bar. The s.h.i.+fting water almost blinded Rachael sometimes, and sometimes it seemed as if any way but the way that Ruddy's waving arms indicated was the right one; as if to follow him were utter madness. The water spouted up through the clutch, and once again the engine stopped, and long moments went by before it would respond to the crank again. But Rachael pushed slowly on. She was not thinking now, she was conscious of no feeling but that there was an opposite sh.o.r.e, and she must reach it.

And presently it rose before them. The road ran gradually upward, a shallow sheet of running water covering it, but firm, hard roadway discernible nevertheless. Rachael stopped the car, and Ruddy came again and put his face close to hers, through the curtains.

”Now ye've got straight road, Mrs. Gregory, and I hope to the good Lord you'll have a good run. Thank ye, Millie--much obliged!”