Schwartz and I ran to the boat, hauled it on land, and set it keel upward
against a low leafy dripping branch. To this place of shelter,
protecting her as securely as I could, I led the princess, while Schwartz
happed a rough trench around it with one of the sculls. We started him
on foot to do the best thing possible; for the storm gave no promise that
it was a passing one. In truth, I knew that I should have been the
emissary and he the guard; but the storm overhead was not fuller of its
mighty burden than I of mine. I looked on her as mine for the hour, and
well won.




CHAPTER XXXI

PRINCESS OTTILIA'S LETTER

That hour of tempest went swift as one of its flashes over our little
nest of peace, where we crouched like insects. The lightning and the
deluge seemed gloriously endless. Ottilia's harbouring nook was dry
within an inch of rushing floods and pattered mire. On me the torrents
descended, and her gentle efforts drew me to her side, as with a maternal
claim to protect me, or to perish in my arms if the lightning found us.
We had for prospect an ever-outbursting flame of foliage, and the hubbub
of the hissing lake, crimson, purple, dusky grey, like the face of a
passionate creature scourged. It was useless to speak. Her lips were
shut, but I had the intent kindness of her eyes on me almost unceasingly.

The good hour slipped away. Old Warhead's splashed knees on the level of
our heads were seen by us when the thunder had abated. Ottilia prepared