When I looked towards her, I saw her face, framed in mist, pale and wet with tears, beseeching me.

There at that moment, born in danger and nursed by her helplessness, there came to me a new feeling, that was yet an old one; now I knew that I would not leave her.

Nay, for an instant I was tempted to abandon all effort and drift on to the French shore, looking there to play my own game, despite of her and despite of King Louis himself.

But the risk was too desperate.
"No, I won't leave you," I said in low tones that trembled under the fresh burden which they bore.
But yes, the wind rose, the mist began to lift, the water was running lazily from under our keel, the little boat bobbed and danced to a leisurely tune.
"The wind serves," cried Thomas Lie.

"We shall make land in two hours if it hold as it blows now." The plan was in my head.