But it was Kitty herself who proposed the next excursion. She was already tired of menhirs and dolmens; but she had a longing for a little boating on this wild and windy coast. They would drive to Locmariaker, and go across to the little Gavr Innis, where there are some carvings in a cave which give people an excuse for visiting the island. The morning was very rainy, and gusts of wind rushed up from the south-west. Her mother would have begged off, but Kitty was resolute, "They will not take us if there is any danger," said Mrs Lascelles, at last surrendering. Kitty mocked at the idea of danger; and, indeed, when they readied Locmariaker and walked down to the little landing-place, the boatmen showed no unwillingness to convey them across. For though the rain still fell, there were rifts in the grey fast-driven clouds which looked as if brighter weather might be near, and the freshness of it all--the grey-green of the water, the saltness of the wind, the swoop of the white gulls--made Kitty the more eager to be out on the dancing waves. She pulled the hood of her waterproof over her hat, her cheeks glowed under the strong wet wind; and her mother, already seated in the boat, looked at her as she stood lightly-poised on the slippery stones, with a smile of satisfaction. Certainly the experiment had been quite successful; and, as they were well out of the reach of hearing anything which might keep up the remembrance of an unifying incident, she might hope to take the girl home with the shadow all gone. Meanwhile, all seemed ready, and yet they did not start. The old boatman--Stevan--his brown face deeply seamed with lines, made some excuse about his sail, which was not in order, and the boy was sent up to one of the small cottages which straggle down towards the water. "Kitty, do make him understand that we wish to start," said Mrs Lascelles. "If I am to be drowned, I don't want to be all day about it." But now the boy reappeared followed by a dark figure in a shabby soutane. "It is _M. le cure_," said old Stevan, addressing himself politely to Kitty. "He has to cross to the island to see a sick person. These ladies will not object." The _cure_ came deliberately down with firm, quick steps; he lifted his hat, stepped into the boat, and sat down. Kitty stepped after him; the boy took the oar to push off, but the old sailor still looked towards the land and lingered. "I believe this is a ferry boat," cried Mrs Lascelles, impatiently. "Look, Kitty, there is some one else!" Some one else was in a big ulster; a woman--probably Stevan's wife--a woman in a white _coiffe_ and blue dress was hastening before him, and pointing eagerly to the boat. It was evident that she had an eye for business, and would not lose a passenger who might add a franc or two to her husband's gains. Mrs Lascelles was vexed. "We shall wait here all day at this rate," she said.