His contracted eyes could see four minute figures rowing with ceaseless motion, and a fifth sate at the helm.

But he knew there was a sixth, unseen, lying, bound and helpless, at the bottom of the boat; and his fancy kept expecting this man to start up and break his bonds, and overcome all the others, and return to the shore free and triumphant.
It was by no fault of Hepburn's that the boat sped well away; that she was now alongside the tender, dancing on the waves; now emptied of her crew; now hoisted up to her place.

No fault of his! and yet it took him some time before he could reason himself into the belief that his mad, feverish wishes not an hour before--his wild prayer to be rid of his rival, as he himself had scrambled onward over the rocks alongside of Kinraid's path on the sands--had not compelled the event.
'Anyhow,' thought he, as he rose up, 'my prayer is granted.

God be thanked!' Once more he looked out towards the ship.

She had spread her beautiful great sails, and was standing out to sea in the glittering path of the descending sun.
He saw that he had been delayed on his road, and had lingered long.
He shook his stiffened limbs, shouldered his knapsack, and prepared to walk on to Hartlepool as swiftly as he could..