"Beginning to-morrow, they can go ashore in batches of ten. This afternoon, Mr. Rogers and a boat's crew can take the long boat and some casks and go ashore to look for water."
"Very well, sir," replied the mate, with a curious expression on his face.
As he turned away, his one eye fell on Drew. They had not met since the fight two days before. They stared at each other for several seconds, until Ditty's eye fell before the concentrated fury in those of the young man.
Ruth, who had witnessed the interchange of looks, put her hand lightly on Drew's arm.
"Aren't you going to help me into the boat, Allen?" she asked.
His rage at Ditty vanished in an instant as he turned to her. She was trying to smile, but there was no laughter in her dewy eyes. But Drew saw there something deeper and sweeter and tenderer. There was immense sympathy and—what was that other fugitive expression that he caught before her eyelids lowered?
He bent toward her, but just then Grimshaw and the captain ranged alongside, and they had to take their places in the boat.
The members of the crew who had been told off for the service, bent to the oars, and, at a rapid pace, they approached the shore. The beach shelved gradually, and they had no trouble in making a landing. The sailors leaped out into the shallow water and drew the boat well up on the strand, and the party disembarked.
Drew wished that they had found it necessary to wade. With what delight he would have carried Ruth in those strong arms of his!
"We'll be back in an hour or two, my lads," said the captain. "You can scatter about and do as you like until we return, as long as you keep within hail of the boat."