THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS
It was the matter of eighty or a hundred yards to where the straggling trees began. They climbed quietly up the sloping beach, the ensign leading, and paused where the high tides of winter had left a ridge of sand, loosely clad with grass and wild pea. Before them there lay the wind-rippled surface of the island, flat and unbroken save for the patch of trees, and beyond, the sea again. Nelson thought he could discern what looked like land where the horizon lay, but could not be certain. What he was certain of was a tiny dark speck that bobbed about some two miles away to the north and could be nothing else than a boat. Mr. Stowell gave a grunt and pulled his glasses from their case and leveled them. After a long moment he returned them, faced the Wanderer, circling slowly about off the beach, and waved an arm semaphore fashion. The captain, watching from the deck, waved an answer. A minute later, with her engines humming, she was standing straight out to sea.
The officer led the way again, bearing to the right until they were well hidden from the approaching boat by the trees. Then they went forward and gained the edge of the tiny forest and, following the example set by the ensign, threw themselves down on the sand amidst the
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