"But we never saw the land," added Flemming.
"No; but we might have hit it," remarked Mr. Armitage gravely. "Providence was kind to us that day. Hello, Peter what is interesting you—the Parson's Barn?"
The Patrol Leader was gazing landwards towards a large cave close to Old Harry.
"There are some people waving to us, sir," he replied.
"Eh?" exclaimed Mr. Armitage sharply; then raising his binoculars he brought them to bear upon the spot indicated by the Patrol Leader. "Friends of yours, Peter?" inquired Flemming facetiously. The Scoutmaster returned his binoculars to their case.
"Stand in a bit," he ordered. "There's plenty of water. Slow her down, Roche, and stand by. Unless I'm greatly mistaken, those people are cut off by the tide."
The Olivette approached at half speed to within a cable's length of the shore. Mr Armitage was correct in his surmise, for, standing on a narrow strip of beach were two men and two girls. The men were barefooted, as if they had vainly attempted to wade past the foot of the cliffs. Already the tide was rising rapidly, and in less than an hour their refuge would be invaded by the sea.
"Away dinghy's crew!" exclaimed the Scoutmaster. "Be careful how you land. There's a ground swell running."
The Olivette lost way. The dinghy was hauled alongside, and into her jumped Stratton and Flemming, each manning an oar.
Proceeding cautiously, they allowed the dinghy's forefoot to ground lightly on the pebbly beach. Flemming, with an oar, kept the stern end on to the waves, while the Patrol Leader held on to the bows.