Next morning, when he awoke and turned out into the bright, early morning sunshine, he looked around him as though in search of someone or some sign that would tell him of the vanished one’s fate.
But the lagoon lay as blue in the morning light as though it had never shown him the spectre of the night before, and the trees of God’s Garden gave no hint of the form that lay amidst the groves, dead of a worn-out heart.
CHAPTER V
OUT OF THE GLOOM
“God bless my soul!” cried Kearney. “Come in! What are you doin’ there? Get an oar over if you can. Get an oar over, I tell ye.”
It was three weeks or so after the departure of Lestrange. Kearney, busy over something near the house, and looking up, had caught sight of Dick.
Dick had got into the dinghy, untied her and pushed out with the boat hook. That the tide was on the ebb didn’t matter to Dick.
Hanging over the stern and pretending to fish, Kearney’s voice had roused him and he stood, now, balancing himself and considering the situation created by his own act.
A little over three and a half years of age, he was as strong and big as a child of five, but he was neither big nor strong enough to man the sculls, and the dinghy was drifting towards the cape of wild cocoanuts beyond which lay the lagoon stretch reaching to the break and the sea. Then, attending to Kearney’s directions, he got a scull over on the port side, got it into the cup of the rowlock and, still standing up, tried to pull, making a terrible mess of the business.
“God’s truth!” cried Kearney. “You’ve done it now—pull it in; that ain’t no good, you’re getting her farther out.” He came running along the bank to the little cape, hoping the boat would drift close enough for him to catch it by the gunnel. He couldn’t swim.