“No; we will not do that, Miss Van Heldre,” said Leslie smiling. “Shall I hold the sheet, Vine?”
“No need,” said the young man, making the rope fast.
“But—”
“Oh, all right. I know what you’re going to say—puff of wind might lay us over as we pass one of the combes. Wasn’t born here for nothing.”
Leslie said no more, but deferred to the opinion of the captain of the boat.
“Might as well have brought a line to trail. You’d have liked to fish, wouldn’t you, Vic?”
“Only when we are alone,” said Pradelle. “Can you tell me the name of that point, Miss Vine?”
“Brea,” said Louise quietly.
“And that little valley?”
“Tol Du. The old Cornish names must sound strange to any one from London.”