The sea grew rougher while the little party stood on the beach and as Boyton was dressing the most anxious one in the group was the enthusiastic editor.

His nerve was slowly oozing out at his finger ends.
The inhabitants of the village began crowding down to the shore and when they learned what was going on, an old white-haired man approached the voyager, and in the most earnest manner, addressed him in the Calabrian dialect: "Don't go, don't go," he cried.

"I had a boy such as you, who was lost out there and the devils of the straits will get you." The appeal of the old man was interpreted to Paul and was the only occurrence of the day that had a tendency to upset his nerves.
The expert spearsman had arranged a place on his boat where he could stand and harpoon any sharks that might attack the adventurer, while the guests on the other craft thought they were pretty well fixed to keep the monsters off.

Everything being ready, the felucca backed in from her cable to get the guests aboard.

All were safely on except the bold editor.