Just before sunset the fog lifted as though by magic. Madge and Phyllis were together on the cabin deck when a deep rose flush appeared in the western sky. Instead of a line of sea and sky, some distance ahead of the houseboat, just under the horizon, a faint, dark streak showed itself.
"Madge, what is that over there?" Phil asked sharply, pointing ahead.
Madge shook her head. "I am not sure," she answered.
Another fifteen minutes passed. The "Merry Maid" kept a straight course.
Phil clutched Madge by the sleeve. "If I am not mistaken, there is land over there. Our houseboat is being carried straight toward it."
The girls called down their discovery to Miss Jenny Ann, but the watchers below had also been conscious of a change in the horizon.
Miss Jenny Ann feared that she had seen a mirage, she had gazed so long at the water.
"I know it is land, Miss Jenny Ann," Phyllis insisted, with the assurance that made her such a comfort to her friends in times of difficulty.
But would the houseboat ever drift near enough to shore to allow them to be seen from the land? Very slowly the "Merry Maid" now glided on. She was in quieter water. There was little wind, but a surer force drew her toward the land. The tide was running in. After a time the houseboat party realized this. There was nothing to do but to wait and see how far in their boat would drift. After a time they could see the outline of a sandy shore, with thick woods behind it. But there was no house, no human being in sight.
At twilight the "Merry Maid" was not more than a mile from land, and still creeping toward it.