"To the devil with you and your mother!—I tell you your mother is dead and buried these three years!"
At this Anna Chlannach uttered a piercing shriek—she seemed to reel under the blow, in a wild horror—then, with her hands raised high above her head, she rushed to the end of the quay, and threw herself over, right under the stern-post of the steamer. Donald Ross, startled by that despairing cry, wheeled round just in time to see her disappear; and in a moment he was after her, heedless of the fact that the steamer was still backing, the powerful screw churning up the green water into seething and hissing whirlpools. But the captain had seen this swift thing happen; instantly he recognised the terrible danger; he rapped down to the engine room "Full speed ahead!"—while the man in charge of the hawser, who had not seen, taking this for a sufficient signal, slipped the noose off the post, and let the ponderous cable drop into the sea.
"The raven’s death to you, what have you done!" Archie MacNichol cried, as he ran quickly to the edge of the quay, and stared over, his eyes aghast, his lips ashen-grey.
There was nothing visible but the seething and foaming water, with its million million bells of air showing white in the pellucid green. Had the girl been struck down by the revolving screw? Had Donald Ross been knocked senseless by a blow from the heavy cable? Big Archie pulled off his jacket and flung it aside. He clambered over the edge of the quay, and let himself down until he stood on one of the beams below. His eyes—a fisherman’s eyes—were searching those green deeps, that every moment showed more and more clear.
All this was the work of a second, and so was Archie’s quick plunge into the sea when he beheld a dark object rise to the surface, some half-dozen yards away from him—the tangled black hair and the wan face belonging to a quite listless if not lifeless form. It needed but a few powerful strokes to take him along—then one arm was placed under the apparently inanimate body—while with the other he began to fight his way back again to the pier. Of course, bearing such a burden, it was impossible for him to drag himself up to his former position; he could only cling on to one of the mussel-encrusted beams, waiting for the boat that the people were now hurriedly pushing off from the shore. And if, while bravely hanging on there, he looked back to see if there was no sign of that other one, then he looked in vain: the corpse of the hapless Anna Chlannach was not found until some two days thereafter.