But she was cutting down the distance now between Gavin and the shore.
He planned to beach her on the strip of sand at the bottom of the mangrove swamp, and to make his way to the Standish house through the hidden path whose existence Milo had that day poohpoohed.

He trusted to luck and to justice to enable him to find the man he sought when once he should reach the house.
His only drawback was the fear lest he encounter Claire as well.

In his present wrathful frame of mind he had no wish to see or speak with her, and he hoped that she might not mar by her presence his encounter with her brother.
Between two keys wallowed his chugging boat and into a stretch of clear water beyond.

Then, skirting a low-lying reef, Gavin headed direct toward the distant patch of yellowish beach which was his objective.
The sun's upper edge was sinking below the flat skyline.
Mauve shadows swept over the aquamarine expanse of rippling water.

The horizon was dyed a blood-red which was merging into ashes of roses.