Leslie laughed softly.
"It is of no use calling to him," she said. "He is stone deaf. It is old Will, and he is waiting for the turn of the tide."
"Like a good many more of us," said Yorke, cheerfully, and he was about to shake the man, but Leslie put her hand on his arm and stayed him.
"I—I think I had better wake him," she said. "He is old, and not very good-tempered, and——."
"I see. All right," said Yorke. "I'll keep here in the background. If he refuses to go tell him we'll take his boat and do without him."
Leslie bent over the gunwale, and touched the old man gently. He stirred after a moment or two, and got up on his elbow, frowning at her.
Leslie indicated by expressive pantomime that they wanted to go for a sail, and, after glancing at the sky and at Yorke, the old fellow nodded surlily, and got out of the boat.
Yorke helped him to push the boat into the water.
"And now how are you going to get in?" he said to Leslie, but before she could answer the question old Will took her in his arms and carried her bodily into the boat.