"I see the motor-boat!" Lorna cried, knowing exactly where to look for the Fenique's mooring buoy. "It is afloat."
"I should hope so," rejoined Tobias. "There wouldn't be much use in trying to get across the bay without she was afloat. Hey, Rafe! do you s'pose that skiff yonder will hold together long enough to take us out there to that boat of Mr. Endicott's?"
The skiff in question had been tossed upon the shore, bottom uppermost.
"Heem no broken, I t'ink," said the Portuguese.
"I cal'late you are right," said the lightkeeper. He handed Lorna the lantern and put down his other burdens. "Come on now, Rafe. Give us the help of your hand that ain't busted. Heave ho!"
Lorna flooded the skiff with lantern-light when the men turned it over. It was sound enough for their purpose. Tobias put his sturdy shoulder to the stern and ran the light craft down to the water's edge.
The waves surged in, almost to ordinary full-sea mark. The surface of the basin was not very rough. What the bay was like beyond, they could only guess.
It was necessary for them to shout to each other to be heard, for the waves broke over the reefs noisily. It was Tobias's gesture that instructed Lorna to seat herself in the skiff, forward. He ran the boat out, wading into the sea half-leg deep, and then scrambled in.
Seizing the oar he fixed it in the stern and began to scull. The waves were choppy and the skiff was knocked about a good deal. Tobias was a sturdy old man and Lorna was too good a sailor to be fearful. She clung to the gunwale with one hand and held the lantern so that its light was cast over the bow.
In half a minute they picked out the bulk of the motor-boat. It heaved up and down on the turbulent water, but had evidently shipped but little of that element. Ralph had put on the canvas cover and battened it securely before leaving home.