And
it's only low tide and half-ebb that lets you ashore here at all."
"How about your boat?"
"She's riding to a line. Tide's running up that way, but I'd better be
off."
They stumbled through the darkness and the sleeping gulls, which woke in
fright, and volubly accused one another of nightmares and riotous
behaviour--and Bernel hauled in his boat, and handed Gard the tin dipper
and three good-sized bream.
"If you can't eat them all at once, split them open and dry them in the
sun," he said. "They'll keep for a week that way."
"Tell Nance I think of her every hour of the day, and I pray God the
truth may come out soon."
"I'll tell her. It'll come out. She says so," and he pulled out into the
darkness and was gone.
And the Solitary went back to his shelter, secure in the knowledge that
the tide was on the rise, and half-ebb would not be till well on into
next day. And he thought of Nance, and of Bernel, and of all the whole
matter again; white thoughts and black thoughts, but chiefly white
because of Nance, and Nance was a fact, while the black thoughts were
shadows confusing as the mist.
Pages:
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228