She had scarcely spoken when Leigh said, after a long look through the telescope: "I can make out the house on the hill, quite plainly, Patsey." At any other time Patsey, who dearly loved their old home, would have shown the liveliest interest; but just then her thoughts were all of Jean, and she could spare none for anything else.
"They must have made us out, by this time," she said, as they passed Durleston.
"I should think so, but I don't suppose they watch as we used to do in the old days.

The revenue men up there--" and he nodded up the cliff "-- must of course see that we are French; and if there are any of them who were here, three or four years ago, no doubt they know us again, and must be wondering what brings us here." They had scarcely passed Durleston when Patsey sprang on to the rail, holding fast by the shrouds, and gazed intently at the narrow entrance of the channel, between the island and the mainland.
"There is a boat coming out," she exclaimed.
"The coast guard are sure to have launched their boat, as soon as they made us out.

They would naturally come out to inquire what a French lugger is doing here." He went forward with his telescope, and took a long look at the boat.
"Yes, it is the coast guard, rowing six oars." In a minute or two he went back to his sister.
"Do get down, Patsey," he urged.

"Of course they may have news of Jean, but you must not be disappointed, too much, if they have not.
You know that we have agreed, all along, that very likely we shall be the first back; and no news cannot be considered as bad news.

It will only mean that we must wait." She shook her head, but did not reply.
"There are three men in the stern," she said at last.
Leigh sprang up onto the rail behind her.
"Yes, there are three sitters." Suddenly one of the men stood up.