But what was of more present interest to Perry was a group of figures on the opposite beach.

They appeared to be seated and there was that in their attitude which, even at this distance, told of dejection.

So, reflected Perry, might have looked a group of marooned sailors.

He sighed and bent again to his inadequate oars.

He was under no misapprehension as to the sort of welcome awaiting him, but, like an early Christian martyr on the way to the arena, he proceeded with high courage if scant enthusiasm.
With the sun pouring down upon him, with his hands blistered, with his breath just about exhausted and his arms aching, he at last drew to the shore amidst a dense and unflattering silence.