Casey had probably moved beyond the jutting promontory, that swung in the form of a cart wheel from the base of the point, that he might have sea room in case of something worse than a stiff breeze.

But where was the small boat?
With every step adding to his anxiety Nathaniel hurried along the narrow rim of beach.

He went to the very tip of the point which reached out like the white forefinger of, a lady's hand into the sea; he passed the spot where he had lain concealed the preceding day; his breath came faster and faster; he ran, and called softly, and at last halted in the arch of the cart wheel with the fear full-flaming in his breast.

Over all those miles of sea there was no sign of the sloop.

From end to end of the point there was no boat.