Page 91 of Taming the Heiress
Dougal pointed upward, and Mackenzie motioned that he understood. They walked slowly toward the wooden platforms suspended on ropes and hovering nearby. Dougal stepped onto the wooden deck, tugged three times on one of the ropes to indicate his readiness, and held on.
Within a minute or so, he felt the platform being drawn upward through the water. Holding on to the ropes, he glanced down to see Evan stepping onto the second platform.
A strong wave washed through like a train, smashing Dougal's platform against the broad side of the sea rock, knocking so hard that he was nearly thrown from the wooden planks. He held on, bending his knees to keep his balance. Reaching out with one foot, he shoved the platform away from the rock, where it had wedged and slowly felt it rise again.
The crew who craned his platform upward, and Evan's as well, halted the divers' ascent often as a precaution. Feeling the deck stop again, Dougal clung to the ropes and took slow breaths, giving his lungs time to adapt. With a lurch, the platform began to move again.
Another wave cracked the planking against the rock. This time the impact spun him outward, and his boots slid off the wooden deck.
Scrabbling up the rocky slope, breathing as carefully as he could, he snatched the rope of the platform again and tried to step onto the shifting deck. Seeing Evan ascend slowly past him, Dougal gave him a reassuring gesture to show that all was well.
Well enough, he told himself, if he could get back on the platform. Propped precariously against the steep incline of the hillside, with a wealth of water sweeping around it, the deck bucked like a horse. Moments later, Dougal managed to climb on and tug at the rope again, signaling to be lifted upward.
A horrible sound grew to a loud rumble, and the world shuddered all around him. He glanced up to see the trussed granite block break loose from its moorings and begin to slide down the rocky slope. Dougal swung his weight to yank the platform out of the way, but as the stone grazed past, it caught the platform ropes and ripped the deck away from him.
Four tons of granite scraped to a halt, bumping past Dougal's shoulder and knee in a near miss. Silt and debris clouded the water to midnight darkness, and Dougal could feel the barrier of the immense stone just in front of him. The monster had missed him by inches. Breathing a sigh of shaky relief, he pushed upward to float past it.
But he could not move. His lead boot was caught by its thick toe ridge just under the corner of the granite block.
Chapter 23
The wind grew stronger, blowing Meg's cape, flapping the ribbons of her bonnet. The western sky condensed and thickened into a dark, boiling mass.
"That storm will blow over this way before nightfall, I am thinking," Norrie said, standing beside her.
She nodded, unable to shake her deep sense of fear. "Oh, thank God, they're coming up now," she said, seeing the commotion at the rim of the cliffside, where the diving platforms had been lowered. With Norrie, she ran to the iron railing embedded near the edge and looked down.
A diver burst out of the water, clinging to his platform ropes, and the men hauled him upward. The man gestured insistently as Alan and others unscrewed the bolts that secured his helmet to the wide brass collar that covered his shoulders.
Meg saw Evan's head emerge, saw him gasp in a breath. "Dougal," he said. "He's caught! The block broke loose."
"Oh God!" Meg rushed forward. "Is he hurt?"
"I don't know yet," Evan replied, shaking his head.
Alan ran to the speaking tube and set the funnel to his mouth. "Dougal! Are you there!" He pressed it to his ear for a reply, then nodded, waving to the others to show that he heard something. "His foot is caught, he says," Alan told them. "He's not harmed, but he cannot get free."
"What of his hoses?" Evan snapped.
"Open and fine so far, though pressed between the incline and the stone block," Alan replied, after asking.
Mackenzie grabbed his helmet from the man who held it. "I'm going back down."
"If you do that, man, you risk your own life," Alan said. "Your lungs cannot take the up and down of the pressures. Let someone else go down."
"Who else is there to do it?" Evan growled. "No one else is trained to use this equipment but Dougal, me, and you, Alan. And—well, you've got a dread of the water."
Alan frowned. "I'll go doon the deep if it's needed."
"Good man," Evan said. "But I'm suited up." He put the helmet back on, gesturing for the crew men to screw it into place. Within seconds, he was ready and waiting on the platform, which was quickly lowered back into the water.
Alan called orders to those manning the air pumps and hose cranks. "Give Dougal as much slack as you can, and keep the airflow steady," he reminded them. "Aye, that's it." He spoke into the funnel, then listened to Dougal's answer.
Meg paced, watching while the platform surged down into the water. She whirled, skirt billowing, and came face-to-face with Sir Frederick, who grabbed her hard at the elbow.
"What do you want?" she snapped. "Let me go."
"Come away from the edge," he said. "It isn't safe."
