Their journey home--that is, to Sark--that day was not entirely
without incident. For when they got down to the quay, Sark had
disappeared completely, and Herm and Jethou were no more than wan
ghosts of their natural selves, in a dense white mist.
"Ah-ha! Here is our old friend of Tintageu," said Graeme jovially.
"Well, I must confess to bearing him no ill-feeling--if he doesn't
land us on a rock this time. Going, captain?"
"Oh yess, we go. I think it will lift," said Captain Bichard.
"Don't run us on a rock anyway."
"I won'd run you on no rock. I coult smell my way across;" and they
started, feeling their way cautiously past Castle Cornet, into the
open, where black jaws lined with white teeth lie in wait for the
unwary.
And just as they got to the south of Jethou they saw a sight the like
of which none of them had ever seen before, nor, from the exclamations
about them, had any of the rest.
The mist in front was like a soft white curtain, and upon it, straight
ahead of their bows, appeared suddenly a mighty silver bow, not a
rainbow, because there was no rain and so there were no colours. But,
like the bow they had seen from Belême Cliff, this also was a perfect
circle, all but a tiny segment where it appeared to rest upon the sea,
and its only colour was a dazzling silvery sheen which waxed as they
watched it in breathless silence. Then it waned, bit by bit, till at
last it was gone, and only the white mist curtain remained.
"How very lovely!" murmured Margaret.
"A good omen for certain," said Miss Penny. "Even Johnnie Vautrin
couldn't make any ill news out of that. It was your wedding arch,
Meg."
"Well, that's the first time I ever saw a white rainbow," said Graeme
to the captain.
"First time I ever saw one myself, sir."
"Not very common then."
"Never heard of one before."
"We're evidently in luck."
"Mebbe, but we won't crow till we've made the Creux. Kip your eyes
skinned, lads!"
"Ay, ay, zur!" and the crew lined the bulwarks on their knees, with
their chins on the rail, their eyes peering into the puzzling veil in
front, and their ears alert for the wash of wave on rock.
They were going slow, hardly moving in fact at times, waiting to pick
up their course as any possible mark should come into view, with
muttered comments from the puzzled lookouts, and an occasional growl
of dissent from views propounded by the younger members, while the
passengers all stood in silent discomfort as though ready for
contingencies.
For the tides and currents in those seas are strange and gruesome.
Even as they lay, apparently motionless, with the sea as smooth as oil
all round them, there came a sudden turmoil, and they were in a wild
race of waters, with bubbling coils and swirls and frothing gouts of
foam from rocks that lay fathoms deep below.
"La Grune," growled one of the keen-eyed watchers, and was discounted
at once by doubtful growls from the rest.
Then a black ledge loomed through the mist and faded again before they
had more than a glimpse of it.
"Les Dents," ventured one.
"Hautes Boues,"--so divergent were their views.
A sound of waters and another dark loom of rock.
"Sercul," said one.
"L'Etac," said another.
Then the engine bell tanged sharply, and they went ahead. The captain
had seen more than the rest and knew where he was, and they all
breathed more freely. And presently, with a wide berth to the dangers
of the south-east coast, they nosed slowly in again, picked up La
Conchée without dissentients, and so into Creux Harbour in a way that
seemed to Graeme little short of marvellous.
"Fogs at sea are beastly--there is no other word for it--but all the
same I'm glad we saw the Wedding-Bow," said Miss Penny.