Then the wind, which had died down at sunset, began to sweep across the lake.
Gently, at first, it stirred the water’s tranquil surface, as if fearful of disturbing its repose.
Anon it grew stronger.
From the mountains it mustered its powers.
The sleeping waters were awakened.
In angry waves they beat the shores.
The rising tide lent its aid to the mysterious force urging the boat into its embrace.
Thus the boat was carried more rapidly away, and yet in the next two hours’ time scarcely three feet was added to the space gone over.
It must have been past midnight, when, with a last quivering shock—a dying struggle, it seemed—and the boat swung clear from the sand.
A minute later it floated slowly away.