e sky-line to southward, which shewed neither sail nor stain

s? Ha! ha!-hi! Fishing, wheeling, calling, O the weariness, the blueness, the waves

rning sea. The tent flap had got loose again and was beckoning. Come what might, provision

go back. To land again on that terrible spot and leave the boat whilst he hu

as no danger in leaving her, as the tide was ebbing; the only danger was in delay, for i

rsued, he50 made for the tent, seized the belt and the pouch of money, made for the heap of provis

ent. This had to be filled; the spring was amidst the bushes, yet he made his way there, crushing the brushwood under his naked feet, his breath coming in bursts, his lips dry as sandstone. Yves had not caught him yet, as, the breaker on his shoulder, he came running back to the boat. He flung it in; the clothes,

s like knives that had to be avoided, drive Fear as she might. This was the place where Yves had f

d with the coat, shirt, and trousers under his left arm, came back swiftly along the reef, spr

sight; yet viewless hands seemed preparing to push her off; she woul

on the gunwale as if to make sure she was really ther

he sand. It was a two men's business to float her and he never would ha

ly, then more and more, till she moved stem a

the waves were less than two feet high and with one of the sculls

blue sea; the water, all merry with the breeze, smacked the boat cheerily and flashed away and away, in

ar as you may, our voices will follow you, our weariness, the sunlight, the bluen

he last word, the last

-Yves

ere were no waves here, the shallows and the reefs had made the sea choppy close to the island; here there was no