About twenty yards from the shore, Jeanne, in a small boat, was rowing toward the island.
She was pulling at the great oars with feeble strokes, and making no headway against the current which was sweeping down the tidal way.
There was no time for hesitation.

Andrew threw off his coat, and wading into the water, reached her just in time.

He clambered into the boat and took the oars from her trembling fingers.

He was not a moment too soon, for the long tidal waves were rushing in now before the storm.

He bent to his task, and drove the boat safely on to the beach.