Yes, the breeze was freshening. The boat was lean-ing, the water was sliced sharply and fell away ingreen cascades, in bubbles, in cataracts. Cam lookeddown into the foam, into the sea with all its treasurein it, and its speed hypnotised her, and the tie betweenher and James sagged a little. It slackened a little. Shebegan to think, How fast it goes. Where are we going?and the movement hypnotised her, while James, withhis eye fixed on the sail and on the horizon, steeredgrimly. But he began to think as he steered that hemight escape; he might be quit of it all. They mightland somewhere; and be free then. Both of them, look-ing at each other for a moment, had a sense of escapeand exaltation, what with the speed and the change.But the breeze bred in Mr. Ramsay too the sameexcitement, and, as old Macalister turned to fling hisline overboard, he cried aloud, ‘We perished,’ andthen again, ‘each alone.’ And then with his usualspasm of repentance or shyness, pulled himself up,and waved his hand towards the shore.

‘See the little house,’ he said pointing, wishing Camto look. She raised herself reluctantly and looked. Butwhich was it? She could no longer make out, thereon the hillside, which was their house. All lookeddistant and peaceful and strange. The shore seemedrefined, far away, unreal. Already the little distance192