“That chap Ponting told me this side of the coast is no use for ships,” said he. “They keep beyond them islands for fear of the reefs. I reckon the old sea cows know that or there wouldn’t be so many on this beach. He said there was a bay round to the westward where ships put in.”
“How far?” asked the girl.
“A goodish bit,” replied Raft. “I was making for that bay when I struck you. I was thinking,” he finished, “that when you were stronger on your pins we might make for there.”
“Leave here?”
“Ay,” said Raft, “there’s not much use sticking here.”
She said nothing for a moment, she felt disturbed.
Since her recovery she had fallen into a state of quietude. She who had been the leader of Bompard and La Touche, she who had fought and worked so determinedly for existence had now no ambition, no desire for anything but rest. The strength of this man who had given her back her life seemed a shield against everything, just as a wall is a shield against the wind; she was content to sit in its shelter and rest. The idea of new exertions and unknown places terrified her.
“But how are you to know the bay?” asked she, “there may be a good many bays along the coast.”
“No,” said Raft, “Ponting told me there wasn’t a decent anchorage but this. He said this bay wasn’t to be mistook, looks as if it was cut out with a spade and the cliffs run high and black, there’s a seal beach that way and it’s after seals the ships come. Well, there’s time enough to think of it seeing you are not fit to move yet.”
“Oh, I’ll soon be all right,” said she. “I’m getting stronger every day.”