"Marie," said Len, attempting to hide his evident confusion by directing the glass to another quarter, thus turning his face from the cool eyes of Winslow.
"A pretty name, Len; you did well in choosing it for your boat."
Len soon turned his gaze again to the island, and caught sight of the last of the kindly smile in the eyes still looking him through. He was loth to let the glasses leave his face, and he looked long and steadily at the group. They were near enough now to enable them to hear the deep, rich voice of Pierre and the lower tones of the occupants of the following team. The oxen moved slowly down the shore in the soft red clay and sand, the wheels thumping over the black projecting rocks at times, sending the echoed sound along the shore. The laughter of the girl came pleasantly to their ears as the swaying cart forced the older woman to seize the side near her more firmly while one wheel or the other went over a rock.
The Marie had now drifted well in towards the island, while at the same time the tide had fallen away, thus lessening the space between the boat and the shore. Len still kept the glass to his eyes, and his eyes on the shore till a sudden blow upon the bottom of the yacht, and a loud scraping along her side startled him into giving his attention to matters elsewhere.
"Only a rock, Len," said Winslow, coolly surveying the shore again with the glass which Len had hastily restored to him. Yet not a sign of danger had been manifest.
A little to their left the current swept between the island and the mainland, about a mile away, while the line the boat was following would direct them about half a mile from the outside of the island. They had now approached so near the shore as to be within easy speaking distance of the island folk, who had reached the edge of the water and stood watching the yacht.
"Sheer off, boy! sheer off! if you don't want to ground," called out Pierre. At the sound of his voice the cattle walked fearlessly into the water.
Len sounded with an oar, and found that the sand was just under his keel.
Springing to the bow of the boat, he again reached for bottom, and putting all his weight on the oar, turned the boat's head away from the shore. Winslow was in a moment following his example at the stern, and their united strength gave a slight outward motion to the heavy boat. Another slight scraping sound told them how near they were to being aground, and they exerted all their force to escape the danger that threatened them at every moment.
"It's all against us, sir, there is a breeze coming," cried Len, flushed with his exertions. "It will drive us on, if we don't strike before it comes."