But the waves were immense at high tide, and the
fishermen muttered among themselves and stared darkly out over the mighty
breakers.
It was known among them that a boat had put out to sea in the morning and
had not returned before the rising of the gale. There were heavy hearts
in Old Silverstrand that day. But to launch another boat to search for
the missing one was out of the question. The great seas that came hurling
into the little fishing-harbour were sufficient proof of that, even to
the most inexperienced landsman.
Seton, learning the news when lunch was half over, rushed off to New
Silverstrand in the hope that the boat might have been driven in that
direction by the strong current. But nothing had been seen from there of
the missing craft, and though he traversed the entire distance by way of
the cliffs, he saw nothing throughout his walk but flecks of foam here
and there over the tumbling expanse of water.
He returned an hour or so later, reaching Old Silverstrand by five. But
nothing had been heard there. The fishermen shook their heads when he
questioned them. It was plain that they had given up hope.
Seton raged up and down the quay in impotent agony of mind. The
off-shore wind continued for some hours. There was not the smallest doubt
that the boat had been driven out to sea, unless--a still more awful
possibility--she had been swamped and sunk long ago.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303