Jeanne kept silence, listening only to the swirl of the water struck by the pole, and to the quick breathing of her companion. Once she asked whether she could not help.
"There is no need," Kate answered. "Shine your torch on the left. We are nearly across."
Almost as she spoke they struck the sandy bottom. Jeanne fell into the bottom of the boat. Kate, with a little laugh, sprang ashore and held out her hand.
"Come," she said, "we have crossed the worst part now."
"Where are we going?" Jeanne asked, a little relieved as she felt her feet land on the sodden turf.
"Towards the Hall," Kate answered. "Give me your hand, if you like, or use your torch. The way is simple enough, but we must twist and turn to-night. It has been a flood tide, and there are great pools left here and there, pools that you have never seen before."
"But how do you know?" Jeanne asked, in amazement. "I can see nothing."
Her guide laughed contemptuously.
"I can see and I can feel," she said. "It is an instinct with me to walk dry-footed here. To the right now—so."
"Stand still for a moment," Jeanne pleaded. "The wind takes my breath."