He saw the dark sweep of the water, barely visible in the gleam of those few stars unobscured by cloud, and felt the sluggish flow against his legs as he moved.

The bottom was soft, yet his feet did not sink deeply, although it was rather difficult wading.

However, the clay gave him more confidence than sand underfoot, and there was less depth of water even than he had anticipated.

He was wet only to the thighs when he toiled up on to the low spit of sand, and put the girl down a moment to catch a fresh breath and examine the broader stretch of water ahead.

They could see both shores now, that which they had just left, a black, lumping, dim outline.