I got out the oars and made her row, though she was so weak I thought she would faint at every stroke.
Morning broke, and we looked long in the growing light for our island.
At last it showed, small and black, on the horizon, fully fifteen miles away.

I scanned the sea with my glasses.

Far away in the south-west I could see a dark line on the water, which grew even as I looked at it.
"Fair wind!" I cried in a husky voice I did not recognize as my own.
Maud tried to reply, but could not speak.

Her lips were blue with cold, and she was hollow-eyed--but oh, how bravely her brown eyes looked at me! How piteously brave! Again I fell to chafing her hands and to moving her arms up and down and about until she could thrash them herself.

Then I compelled her to stand up, and though she would have fallen had I not supported her, I forced her to walk back and forth the several steps between the thwart and the stern-sheets, and finally to spring up and down.
"Oh, you brave, brave woman," I said, when I saw the life coming back into her face.