Just as she stepped between him and the edge, he looked around and realized his danger. He yelled and tried to stop, but it was too late. The deck was still slick from an early morning rain and he skidded toward her. Clover grunted as he slammed into her, knocking her backward and sending her out over the side, then down, down. Damien echoed her screech as they hit the water and were swept along by the frigid, swirling current.
Clover tried to grab hold of Damien, but the current quickly dragged him out of her reach. She was being pulled down by the weight of her clothes and could not immediately go after him. Fighting panic, she pulled off her petticoats and skirt. The release of her legs from the tangled wet cloth enabled her to speed back to the surface. She looked for Damienand saw the boy being swept away by the same current that was buffeting her body.
The river was cold and dangerously swift. Clover knew she would never be able to fight against the current and take Damien back to the barge. Her only hope was to get him to shore or to grab hold of some of the rocks or low-hanging branches along the banks.
She spotted a dying tree tipped toward the river on an eroding bank, its branches lapped by the water but apparently sturdy. Clover started to swim with the current, gaining speed as she swiftly approached Damien. She heard Ballard’s deep voice as he cursed her and ordered the crew to launch the small rowboat into the water, promising gruesome punishments if the men failed to reach them in time. Confident that Ballard would be setting out after her, she concentrated on getting to Damien.
As she closed in on the boy, she tried to slow down. When he saw her, his movements grew more frantic. She knew he thought she would save him and prayed she proved worthy of his faith in her.
Once she was near enough to be heard, she yelled, “Head toward that tree branch near the bank.”
“I cannot.”
“Yes, you can, Damien. I will be there to grab you.”
“The water’s taking me!”
“You do not have to fight it much, just enough to get nearer the shore. Keep your head above the water and try to swim toward the bank.”
He began to struggle in the direction she indicated. He would never reach it on his own, she knew, but she hoped he could gain a few feet. Again using the current to give her speed, she swam toward thedrooping branch. As she neared it, she began to fear that she would not get close enough to grab it. The fight against the current was swiftly sapping her strength. But suddenly the branch loomed up in front of her, and she grasped it with a sigh of relief.
The branch gave an ominous crack under her weight, but she had no time to worry about that. She edged along the branch until she could go no farther, looped her arm around the rough bark, and watched for Damien. He was weakening fast and it did not look as if he was close enough for her to reach him.
“Just a little more, Damien,” she called to him. “Just a little more.”
“I am too tired.”
“I know, darling, but just a little closer and you will be safe.”
She could still hear Ballard shouting, but could not understand what he was saying. All she could do was pray that she could get hold of Damien and keep hold of him until someone could pull them both from the water. As her young brother thrashed past her, she grabbed his outstretched hand. He had the wit to grab her arm immediately with his other hand as well. The force of his current-pulled weight on her arm nearly made her lose her grip on the branch.
“Pull yourself up my arm, Damien,” she said as she tried to get a firmer grip on the branch.
Her brother did as he was told and soon had a hold on the branch as well. She steadied her own grasp and wrapped her arm around his waist. Her legs ached from the cold and the strain of keeping them both above water.
“What do we do now, Clover?” Damien asked, his teeth chattering, his body trembling.
“We have two choices. We can try to make our way back along this branch until we can climb onto the bank, or we can wait right here until the barge comes by and rescues us.”
“Maybe we should try to get on land.”
“It would certainly be easier than hanging here, but I see no place for the barge to dock.”
“They can send the little boat for us.”
Clover nodded and edged her arm along the branch, tugging Damien with her. The branch gave another ominous crack, and she moved more cautiously. Then her feet touched bottom. To her horror, her feet sank into the mud. It was as if the mud were alive and sucking her down into it. She yanked her foot free and edged back toward the river, nudging a reluctant Damien to do the same.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
“Between us and the bank is mud that seems inclined to have me for dinner. I think it would be as dangerous for us to try and get around it as to just hang here until we are rescued.”
“Look, Clover! Here comes the rowboat!”
“And none too soon,” she muttered as the branch cracked again, dipping a little lower into the water.
“Clover,” Ballard yelled as he caught sight of her from the narrow bow of the small boat and directed the barge captain to row toward her. “Are ye all right?”
“Yes, but this branch is beginning to give way.”
