d falling on the water. It seemed to make scarcely any way at
all, and each sea that curled underneath the boat and roared toward the
beach was a new danger.

"They're going to run her in here," said Sea Andrew. "There's more left
on board; that's what that means, and they're goin' back for 'em. If
'twasn't so they'd run in anywheres and let her break."

For one sailor will always tell what another is about, however great the
distance intervening.

Slowly the boat came on, rolling tremendously on the curve of the
breakers, between the broken water of the tideway and the spume of the
surf.

"That's Loo at the hellum," said Sea Andrew--the keenest eyes in
Farlingford.

And suddenly Miriam swayed sideways against John Turner, who was perhaps
watching her, for he gripped her arm and stood firm. No one spoke. The
watchers on the beach stared open-mouthed, making unconscious grimaces
as the boat rose and fell. All had been ready for some minutes; every
preparation made according to the time-honoured use of these coasts:
four men with life-lines round them standing knee-deep waiting to dash
in deeper, others behind them grouped in two files, some holding the
slack of the life-lines, forming a double rank from the shore to the
fire, giving the steersman his course. There was no need to wave a
torch or shout an order. They were Farlingford men on the shore and
Farlingford men in the boat.

At last, after breathless moments of suspense, the boat turned, and came
spinning in on the top of a breaker, with the useless oars sticking out
like the legs of some huge insect. For a few seconds it was impossible
to distinguish anything. The moment the boat touched ground, the waves
beating on it enveloped all near it in a whirl of spray, and the black
forms seemed to be tumbling over each other in confusion.

"You see," said Turner to Miriam, "he has come back to you after all."

She did not answer but stood, her two hands clasped together on her
breast, seeking to disentangle the confused group, half in half out of
the water.

Then they heard Loo Barebone's voice, cheerful and energetic, almost
laughing. Before they could understand what was taking place his voice
was audible again, giving a sharp, clear order, and all the black forms
rushed together down into the surf. A moment later the boat danced out
over the crest of a breaker, splashing into the next and throwing up a
fan of spray.

"She's through, she's through!" cried