"'Laddin, we're not going so fast."

They had run into nominally still water, and the skiff was
losing momentum.

"Maybe we'd better land on the island," said Aladdin, "if we
can, and wait till the tide turns; won't be long now."

Again he plied the oars, and this time with success. For
after a little they came into the shadow of the island, the
keel grunted upon sand, and they got out. There was a little
crescent of white beach, with an occasional exclamatory green
reed sticking from it, and above was a fine arch of birch and
pine. They hauled up the boat as far as they could, and sat
down to wait for the tide to turn. Firm earth, in spite of
her awful spiritual forebodings, put Margaret in a more
cheerful mood. Furthermore, the woods and the general mystery
of islands were as inviting as Punch.

"It's not much fun watching the tide come in," she said after
a time.

Aladdin got up.

"Let's go away," he said, "and come back. It never comes in
if you watch for it to."

Margaret arose, and they went into the woods.