He left them talking and sped away across the downs, across the fields, towards Creux harbour.
He might, if he had known it, have found a boat nearer at hand, Rouge Terrier way or in Breniere Bay.

But he was a Sark man, and a farmer at that, and knew little and cared less, of the habits of Little Sark.
And the rest, falling to his idea, streamed after him, for that which lay under the cliff could only be gotten out by boat.
So to the Creux, panting the news as he went.

And there, willing hands dragged a boat rasping down the shingle, and lusty arms, four men rowing and one astern sculling and steering at the same time, sent her bounding over the water as though it were life she sought, not death.

For, though no man among them had any smallest hope of finding life in that which lay under the cliff, yet must they strain every muscle, till the labouring boat seemed to share their anxiety to get there and learn the worst.
So, out past the Laches, with the tide boiling round the point; past Derrible, with its yawning black mouths; past Dixcart with its patch of sand; under the grim bastions of the Cagnon; the clean grey cliffs and green downs above, all smiling in the morning sun; the clear green water creaming among the black boulders, hissing among their girdles of tawny sea-weeds, cascading merrily down their rifted sides; round the Convanche corner, so deftly close that the beauty of the water cave is bared to them, if they had eye or thought for anything but that which lies under the cliff in Coupee Bay.

And not a word said all the way--not one word.