"I'm rather a fool if she has landed safely hours ago and is making her way home," he muttered, but he knew that nothing would make him go back. Three miles down was the sea and the fishing village of Yalstone. This was his goal. He knew she invariably rowed seawards.
Suddenly he slipped in his oars and listened. Was it fancy that the following words were wafted over the water towards him?
"For what is the use of endless sorrow?
Though the sun goes down, it will rise to-morrow."
Was it a trick of imagination? The rain was lessening. He struck a match and lighted up his pipe whilst he listened; and then very distinctly came a "Hallo!" across the river. He shouted back, and Sidney's voice came like a bell in response:
"I'm on a sandbank. Don't come too close."
"Why," he muttered to himself, "I was within an ace of passing her!"
Deftly and cautiously, he worked the boat towards the centre of the river.
"Go on singing," he shouted. "I can't see, but I can hear."
"I've sung myself hoarse!" came the cry.
Then came a rift in the rolling clouds, and a watery moon showed itself for a moment or two. Randolph saw his goal, and in a few minutes had pulled up by the side of a low sandbank.