In the bottom of the boat I found an old oar, with which, after much labour, I succeeded in getting to the shore. As I walked back to the hut by the path leading to the sea, I looked towards the place where the night before the blind boy had been awaiting the arrival of the sailor. The moon at this moment was shining in the sky, and I fancied I could discern on the seashore a white figure. Filled with curiosity, I concealed myself behind a sort of promontory, from which I could remark what was going on around me. What was my surprise, and I almost say my joy, when I saw that the white figure was my naiad? She was wringing the water out of her long, fair locks, and her wet dress clung to her body. A boat, which I could just see in the distance, was coming towards us. Out of it sprang the same boatman whom I had seen the night before, with the same Tartar cap. I now saw that his hair was cut in the Cossack fashion, and that from his girdle hung a large knife. "Janko," cried the young girl, "all is lost." Then they began to talk, but in so low a voice that I could not hear them. "Where is the blind boy?" said Janko at last, raising his voice. "He will be here soon," was the answer. At that very moment the blind boy appeared, carrying on his back a packet, which he placed in the bark. "Listen," said Janko, "keep a good watch here; the things you know are valuable. Tell"--(here a name was uttered which I could not catch) "that I am no longer in his service. Things have taken a bad turn. He will see me no more. The situation is so dangerous that I must get something to do elsewhere. He will not find such another very easily. You may add that, if he had rewarded more liberally the dangerous services rendered to him, Janko would not have left him in the lurch. If he wants to know where to find me--where the wind howls, where the sea foams, that is where I am at home." After a moment's silence, Janko went on: "Say she accompanies me. She cannot remain here. Tell the old woman that she has done her time, and that she ought to be satisfied. We shall not see her again." "And I?" murmured the blind boy. "I cannot be troubled about you." The young girl leapt into the boat, and with her hand made a sign to her companion. "Here," he said to the blind boy, "that will do to buy a gingerbread." "Nothing more?" replied the child. "Yes, take this," and a piece of money fell upon the sands. The blind boy did not pick it up. Janko took his place in the boat. The blind boy remained sitting down on the seashore, and he seemed to be crying. Poor fellow! his grief afflicted me. Why had fate thrown me in the midst of this peaceful circle of smugglers? As a stone troubles the water, I had brought disorder into these lives, and like the stone, moreover, I had very nearly sunk.