"Just going," he replied. "It's better than standing still."
They came to an open space, hesitated for an instant, then plunged out from the shelter of the trees and crossed it. As they neared the farther side a large, dim object barred their way.
"A house!" he exclaimed.
They broke into a run and stumbled up the steps that led to a porch. Rosalind staggered to a willow rocking-chair that was swaying furiously in the wind and sank into it. The boatman looked around him; then grinned broadly.
"Well?" she demanded.
"It's Davidson's!"
The freak of fate that brought her and the boatman to the scene of his escapades impressed her lightly at the time.
"We can get out of the storm then."
"You can, at any rate. Let's see."
He tried a door that stood back of her chair, but found it locked.