But father and son gave but a glance at this, so anxious were they to reach the spot where the ladies were awaiting help.
The forms of two praus were now visible for a few moments and then they faded out, and the darkness came down as if poured out of the heavens upon the sands—a thick transparent darkness through which the stars seemed to peer and light up the sea on their left.
They had gone quite half-way before the regular rhythmical beat of oars, and the splash and rattle of water beneath the gig’s bows were heard. Soon after the boat was abreast of them, the waves showing up luminously as the oars dipped.
“Now, Mark, go aboard,” said the captain. “You can halt when you think we are abreast of the place, and give me a hail.”
“No; you want me here,” replied Mark. “I’m not so tired now.”
The captain was so anxious that he did not press him; and after a word or two to the occupants of the boat, from which the major had sprung to join them, they went on.
The walk seemed as if it would never end; but at last Mark pointed to a couple of particularly tall palm-trees.
“It was about a hundred yards beyond these, father,” said Mark; and as his voice was heard a sound or two came off the water, when a low angry bark was heard, and then a dull rushing sound of feet.
“Bruff! Bruff!—where are they, Bruff?”
The dog uttered a joyous whine as he seemed to leap upon them from out of the transparent darkness, and five minutes later the ladies’ anxieties were temporarily at an end.