"That means danger, and much need of haste for us," I growled. Together we ran down into the tide, striking out with long strokes for the fine white line that seethed softly along the dark base of the point. I commended the lad mightily for his swimming, as we scrambled upon the beach and slipped swiftly into our clothes. Though carrying his bundle on his head, he had given me all I could do to keep abreast of him. We climbed the bluff, and ran through the wet, keen-scented bushes toward the creek where lay the boat. Ere we had gone half-way Tamin met us, breathless. "What danger?" I asked. "I think they're coming back to tuck the lad in for the night, and see that he's comfortable!" replied Tamin, panting heavily. "I heard paddles when they should have been long out of earshot." "Something has put them in doubt!" said Marc. "Sure," said I, "and not strange, if one but think of it!" "Yet I told them a fair tale," panted Tamin, as he went on swiftly toward his boat. The boat lay yet some yards above the edge of tide, having been run aground near high water. The three of us were not long in dragging her down and getting her afloat. Then came the question that was uppermost. "Which way?" asked Tamin, laconically, taking the tiller, while Marc stood by to hoist the dark and well-patched sail. I considered the wind for some moments. "For Chignecto!" said I, with emphasis. "We must see de Ramezay and settle this hound La Garne. Otherwise Marc stands in hourly peril." As the broad sail drew, and the good boat, leaning well over, gathered way, and the small waves swished and gurgled merrily under her quarter, I could hardly withhold from laughing for sheer gladness. Marc was already smoking with great composure beside the mast, his lean face thoughtful, but untroubled. He looked, I thought, almost as old as his war-battered sire who now watched him with so proud an eye. Presently I heard Tamin fetch a succession of mighty breaths, as he emptied and filled the ample bellows of his lungs. He snatched the green and yellow cap of knitted wool from his head, and let the wind cool the sweating black tangle that coarsely thatched his broad skull. "Hein!" he exclaimed, with a droll glance at Marc, "that's better than _that_!" And he made an expressive gesture as of setting a knife to his scalp. To me this seemed much out of place and time; but Tamin was ever privileged in the eyes of a de Mer, so I grumbled not. As for Marc, that phantom of a smile, which I had already learned to watch for, just touched his lips, as he remarked calmly: "Vraiment, much better. That, as you call it, my Tamin, came so near to-night that my scalp needs no cooling since!" "But whither steering?" I inquired; for the boat was speeding south-eastward, straight toward Grand Pre.