He stood for a moment balancing himself, his eyes sweeping the sky-line to southward, which shewed neither sail nor stain of smoke, and as he stood he heard the island calling to him.

“Hi! Hi! Hi! you there in the boat! come back! come back! Hi! Think you to escape us? Ha! ha!—hi! Fishing, wheeling, calling, O the weariness, the blueness, the waves, the wind, the sun; they are ours and they are yours, forever—forever—forever. Hi!”

Through the voices of the gulls came the monotonous tune of the beach across the bright morning sea. The tent flap had got loose again and was beckoning. Come what might, provisions and water must be taken on board and the clothes he had left on the reef spar recovered.

He felt like a man who had just escaped from a haunted house, yet he had to go back. To land again on that terrible spot and leave the boat whilst he hunted for the things was an act requiring real courage, but it had to be done.

He got the sculls out and, rowing towards the strand, beached the boat cleverly. There was no danger in leaving her, as the tide was ebbing; the only danger was in delay, for if the water receded too far, he would not be able to get her afloat again till high tide.

Jumping out knee-deep, he hauled her nose a little higher on the sand, then, running like a man pursued, he50 made for the tent, seized the belt and the pouch of money, made for the heap of provisions, seized a bag of biscuits and some tinned stuff, and with his arms filled returned to the boat.

It was a nightmare business, for the vague fears of yesterday had become more definite, as though the near chance of escape had given them life. He felt Yves behind him as he ran, sweating as he ran, from the boat to the store of provisions and back to the boat. An empty water-breaker from the Rhone lay near the tent. This had to be filled; the spring was amidst the bushes, yet he made his way there, crushing the brushwood under his naked feet, his breath coming in bursts, his lips dry as sandstone. Yves had not caught him yet, as, the breaker on his shoulder, he came running back to the boat. He flung it in; the clothes, now, had to be fetched, the worst part of the business, for it was fifty yards down the beach to the ridge of reef and the clothes were at the extremity of the reef. But it had to be done, and he ran, sweating yet shivering, worked up to the wildest pitch of excitement, by the sea edge to the shore end of the reef.

He was without his boots,—he had forgotten that,—and the reef was............