"Where does it lead to?" asked the boy, all eyes.
"Out into the creek we crossed on the way to the Wish."
"And how many people know about it?"
"Three. One's you; one's me; one's the son of the man who built the cottage—and that's old Piper down below there…. It's not been used for forty years. The sea went back and back, and the creek's been dry these years past."
Kit's knees invited him to prayer. This was not chance; it was not coincidence.
"You're right, sir," said the boy chokily. "He's in it."
"And what's more He's going to get us out," replied the Parson, cheerfully matter-of-fact.
The boy was slipping off his coat.
"I'd better start at once. There's not a second to lose. Nelson may sail this evening."
The Parson laid a kind hand on the lad's shoulder.