Oh, for Christ's sake, save me! save me!" and a cold sweat of terror poured down his whole body.
What is that?
The soft rustle of a woman's dress.
Oh, how he thanked God for that music, and the hope it gave him! It comes toward him; it stops, the key is turned, the dress rustles away, swift as a winged bird; he dashes at the door; it flies open.
Nobody was near.

He recovered his courage in part, fetched out his bag and his tools, and ran across to the starboard side.

There he found the captain lowering Miss Rolleston, with due care, into the cutter, and the young lady crying; not at being shipwrecked, if you please, but at being deserted by her maid.

Jane Holt, at this trying moment, had deserted her mistress for her husband.

This was natural; but, as is the rule with persons of that class, she had done this in the silliest and cruelest way.