As she slewed round, however, Tom Kinlay. who sat at the stern,
caught sight of me swimming close under the boat's side. So near to
him was I, indeed, that by stretching out his arm he might have
caught my upraised hand. Our eyes met, and a smile of triumph
played about his lips. The boat was rowed away from me without his
uttering a word or once attempting to save me.
I kept steadily on my way, swimming towards the Curlew, nor did I
once look round again for the St. Magnus.
The upturned boat was floating outward with the stream, and it took
me a very long time and a strong swim, that tired my arms more than
I can say, before I could be sure that I was shortening the
distance that separated me from this one refuge. But at last the
boat got into a whirling eddy that turned her round and round, and
so kept her back until I was within a fathom of her. Yet even this
short distance seemed more than I could now swim, for, with my
clothes on and my jacket buttoned over me, my arms were not free
enough to let me swim with any ease, and I began to despair and to
flounder about in such eagerness to reach the boat, that I sank
twice under the waves and got my mouth filled with the briny water.
In my growing fear, however, I thought of the viking's stone that
hung under my waistcoat.
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