rose blue from the water's edge far in front of him. Though the wind was
light, the canoe being so taper and sharp at the prow, and the sail so
large in comparison, slipped from the shore faster than he at first
imagined.

As he steered aslant from the little bay outwards into the great Lake,
the ripples rolling before the wind gradually enlarged into wavelets,
these again increased, and in half an hour, as the wind now played upon
them over a mile of surface, they seemed in his canoe, with its low
freeboard, to be considerable waves. He had purposely refrained from
looking back till now, lest they should think he regretted leaving, and
in his heart desired to return. But now, feeling that he had really
started, he glanced behind. He could see no one.

He had forgotten that the spot where they had launched the canoe was at
the end of an inlet, and as he sailed away the creek was shut off from
view by the shore of the Lake. Unable to get to the mouth of the bay
because of the underwood and the swampy soil, Oliver had remained gazing
in the direction the canoe had taken for a minute or two, absorbed in
thought (almost the longest period he had ever wasted in such an
occupation), and then with a whistle turned to go. The serfs,
understanding that they were no longer required, gathered their things
together, and were shortly on their way home. Oliver, holding Felix's
horse by the bridle, had already ridden that way, but he presently
halted, and waited till the three men overtook him. He then gave the
horse into their charge, and turning to the right, along a forest path
which branched off there, went to Ponze. Felix could therefore see no
one when he looked back, and they were indeed already on their way from
the place.