He knew that he was likely to get off the course, but the Back Harbor was, except for its upper entrance, landlocked, and he could not go far astray, no matter where he might hit the shore.
The fog clouds, driven by the squalls, drifted by and passed.

At rare intervals the sky was almost clear.

After he had rowed for half an hour and was beginning to think he must be traveling in circles, one of these clear intervals came and, far off to the left and ahead, he saw something which caused him to utter an exclamation of joy.

Two fiery eyes shone through the dark.

The fog shut them in again almost immediately, but that one glance was sufficient to show that all was well at the post he had deserted.