“Wal, that’s difficult to say,” said the captain, thoughtfully.
“Why, you don’t mean to say that there is any danger of the wind stopping now, or changing?”
“O, no; there’s no danger of that.”
“Well, what is there?”
“Why, we can’t get to the wharf.”
“Why not?”
“It’ll be low tide when we get there.”
“Low tide!” repeated Bart, in consternation; “and how far will we be from the wharf?”
“O, miles; and that isn’t the worst of it. You’ll have the Cornwallis River between you and Grand Pré.”
Bart said no more, but retired to convey this disheartening intelligence to his companions. They talked over it thoughtfully and with serious faces.