Binny Wallace
volunteered to go for them.

"Put an extra stone on the painter, Binny," said Adams, calling after
him; "it would be awkward to have the Dolphin give us the slip and
return to port minus her passengers."

"That it would," answered Binny, scrambling down the rocks.

Sandpeep Island is diamond-shaped--one point running out into the sea,
and the other looking towards the town. Our tent was on the river-side.
Though the Dolphin was also on the same side, it lay out of sight by the
beach at the farther extremity of the island.

Binny Wallace had been absent five or six minutes, when we heard him
calling our several names in tones that indicated distress or surprise,
we could not tell which. Our first thought was, "The boat has broken
adrift!"

We sprung to our feet and hastened down to the beach. On turning the
bluff which hid the mooring-place from our view, we found the conjecture
correct. Not only was the Dolphin afloat, but poor little Binny Wallace
was standing in the bows with his arms stretched helplessly towards
us--drifting out to sea!

"Head the boat in shore!" shouted Phil Adams.

Wallace ran to the tiller; but the slight cockle-shell merely swung
round and drifted broadside on. O, if we had but left a single scull in
the Dolphin!

"Can you swim it?" cried Adams, desperately, using his hand as a
speaking-trumpet, for the distance between the boat and the island
widened momentarily.

Binny Wallace looked down at the sea, which was covered with white caps,
and made a despairing gesture. He knew, and we knew, that the stoutest
swimmer could not live forty seconds in those angry waters.

A wild, insane light came into Phil Adams's eyes, as he stood knee-deep
in the boiling surf, and for an instant I think he meditated plunging
into the ocean after the receding boat.

The sky darkened, and an ugly look stole rapidly over the broken surface
of the sea.

Binny Wallace half rose from his seat in the stem, and waved his hand
to us in token of farewell. In spite of the distance, increasing every
instant we could see his face plainly. The anxious expression it wore
at first had passed. It was pale and meek now, and I love to think there
was a kind of halo about it, like that which painters place around the
forehead of a saint. So he drifted away.

The sky grew darker and darker. It was only by straining our eyes
through the unnatural twilight that we could keep the Dolphin in sight.
The figure