THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS
quently put the coast behind them, according to their calculations, and set out for the harbor, in the hope that they would either find the boat they had rowed across in or, failing that, some other means of transportation. They got thoroughly wet and a trifle shivery, as night drew near, but they didn't find the shore of the harbor. They simply couldn't find anything! They were fairly certain that not far away in more than one direction lay villages, or, at least, dwellings, but Fate guided their footsteps so carefully that not the slightest sign of a habitation rewarded them. As Martin grumbled—for they reached the grumbling stage eventually—if they had committed murder and were trying to keep away from folks they'd probably bump into a house every fifty yards!
When darkness came, earlier because of the mist which grew heavier as time went on, they did at last reach a shore, but it wasn't the harbor that lay before them. There were rocks and no sign of a beach save at infrequent intervals where the ledges broke apart, and the big waves that roared against those stone battlements were straight from the Atlantic. So, of course, what they had done was to cross the headland, a matter of a full five miles, keeping in a direction quite contrary to the
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