One of those boats we had to use if we had to fight for it, but we had no desire to fight, only to get away at once without dispute and without delay.
We fixed on the one that seemed the least heavy and clumsy, though none were much to our liking, and while Le Marchant hunted up a pair of spare oars in case of accident, I found a piece of soft white stone and scrawled on a board, "Boat will be returned in two days, keep this money for hire"-- and emptied all I possessed onto it.

Then we ran the clumsy craft into the water and settled down to a long seven hours' pull.
But labour was nothing when so much--everything--waited at the other end of the course.

We went to it with a will, and I do not suppose that old boat had ever moved so rapidly since she was built.
We had been rowing hard for, we reckoned, close on three hours when the sun rose.

The gray shadows drew slowly off the face of the sea, and we stood up and scanned the northern horizon anxiously.

But there was no flaw upon the brimming white rim.