down the rocky way till a gap let us out into the open. Then swiftly among
the humps of rock, hand in hand, down the slope, towards the shell beach
where the boat lay. I had left it close under the last of the high ground,
and had drawn it well up out of reach of the tide, as I believed. But there
was no boat there. The beach lay shining in the sun, bare and white, and my
heart gave a jerk of dismay.

"There it is!" panted Carette, pointing the opposite way along the shore.
And there, among a tumbled heap of rocks, whose heads just showed above the
water, I saw my boat mopping and mowing at me in the grip of the tide.

I ran along to the nearest point on the beach, calling over my shoulder to
Carette, "If they come after you, take to the water; I will pick you
up,"--and dashed in, as we used to do in the olden days, till the water
tripped me up, and then swam my fastest for the boat, and thanked God that
swimming came so natural to me.

I had the boat back to the beach and Carette aboard within a few minutes,
and we each took an oar and pulled for Brecqhou with exultant hearts. We
thought our perils were past--and they were but just beginning.

For as we cleared the eastern point which juts out into the sea, and opened
Jethou and the dark channel between the two islands, our eyes lighted
together on a boat which was just about to turn the corner into the Herm
roadstead. Another minute and it would have been gone, and we should have
been free.

I stopped rowing and made to back in again out of sight, but it was not to
be. They sighted us at the same moment, and in an instant were tugging at
their oars to get their boat round, while we bent and pulled for our lives.