Ah, that's it! Give me your knife, lad." Mark drew out his pocket-knife, and the major took hold of the sheet which reached to the submerged sail, and drew upon it so as to set the boat in motion.

Then letting it go again he dexterously cut the sheet in two upon the edge of the boat before there was any check, and the gig floated slowly towards the shore.
"We shall be able to find that afterwards," he said in a whisper; and then he waited till the boat softly grounded upon the sands, so close to where they lay dry, that the major was able to step ashore, rocking the boat so slightly that no one stirred.
Mark made a sign, and Bruff limped up on to the thwart painfully, and made as if to leap ashore, but hesitated, lifted up his wounded paw, and whimpered.
The difficulty was solved by his master lifting his hind quarters over the side, the dog offering no resistance, and touching bottom he managed the rest himself, and splashed through the water to limp a few yards, and lie down and roll in the warm dry sand.
Jack needed no invitation or order, for, hopping to the side rather stiffly, he leaped over the intervening water on to the sand, and bounded to Bruff, chattering and revelling in the sunshine, while the dog ran on along the shore, and the two now began to gambol and roll.
Mark was the next to step ashore, and as he followed the major he limped, feeling as if every joint had been wrenched; but the pain wore off a little as he persevered, and following the major's example he stretched himself upon the sand.
"We're not much more than damp now, my lad," said the major; "and this will dry us and warm us too.

I say, my boy, I thought we had come to the end of the book.

Didn't you ?" "No," said Mark quietly.

"I knew we were in great danger; but I felt that my father would save our lives." "That's right," said the major.