CHAPTER IX.
Ah, what pleasant visions haunt me As I gaze upon the sea! All the old romantic legends, All my dreams, come back to me.
Sails of silk and ropes of sendal, Such as gleam in ancient lore; And the singing of the sailors, And the answer from the shore.
Till my soul is full of longing For the secret of the sea, And the heart of the great ocean Sends a thrilling pulse through me.
LONGFELLOW.
Nothing tends to convince us of the element of chance in our lives morethan noticing the consequences of whims. We act and react upon eachother, after joining in a movement, till its origin is forgotten andlost. A politician conceives a whim to dazzle a fighting people with awar, and the circumstances of thousands are unexpectedly andirretrievably altered. We map out our lives for ourselves, and proposeto adhere to the chart, but on considering the effects of chance, one'slife often seems like an island upheaved from the sea, on which thesoil, according to its character, fructifies or refuses the seeds thatbirds and breezes accidentally bring.
Our yachting cruise seemed to be like this. One evening when Nina wasdining at the Dusenalls', Charley had proposed the trip in an idle sortof way. Nina fastened on the idea, and during little talks with Mrs.Dusenall, induced her to see that it might be advantageous for herdaughters to make a reality of the vague proposal.
In thus providing opportunity for sweet temptation, Nina was notdeceiving herself so much as formerly, and she knew that her feeling forGeoffrey was deep and strong. But she would morally bind herself to therigging and sail on without trouble while she listened to the song aswell. Would not Jack be with her always to serve as a safeguard? DearJack! So fond of Jack! Of course it would be all right. And then, to bewith Geoffrey all the time for two or three weeks! or, if not with him,near enough to hear his voice! After all, she could not be any _more_ inlove with him than she was then. Where was the harm?
Margaret's presence on the yacht, if at times rather trying, wouldcertainly make an opening for excitement, and, on the whole, it would bemore comfortable to have both Geoffrey and Margaret on the yacht than toleave them in Toronto together. This friendship between them--what didit amount to? She had a desire to know all about it--as we painfullypull the cot off a hurt finger, just to see how it looks.
For Geoffrey the trip promised to be interesting, and, having in theearly days examined Cupid's armory with some curiosity, he tried topersuade himself that the archer's shafts were for him neither very keennor very formidable. As Davidge used to say, "too much familiaritybreeds despisery," and up to this time of his life it had not seemedpossible for him to care for any one very devotedly--not even himself.Yet Margaret Mackintosh, he thought, was the one woman who could bepermanently trusted with his precious future. No one less valuable couldbe the making of him. He agreed with the Frenchman in saying that "ofall heavy bodies, the heaviest is the woman we have ceased to love," andhe hoped when married to be able to feel some of that respect and trustwhich make things different from the ordinary French experience. Butwhen he thought of Margaret as his wife the thought was vague, and notso full of purpose as some of his other schemes. The mental picture ofMargaret sitting near him by the fireside keeping up a bright chatter,or else playing Beethoven to him, the music sounding at its best throughthe puff-puff of a contemplative pipe, had not altogether dulled hisappreciation of those pleasures of the chase, as he called them, overwhich he had wasted so much of his time. Moreover, he felt that it wasaltogether a toss-up whether she would accept him or not, and that hedid not appeal to her quite in the same way that he did to other women.This threw his hand out. If he wished her to marry him at any time, hethought he would have to put his best foot foremost, and tread lightlywhere the way seemed so precarious. He knew that she liked him very muchas she would a work of art. It was a good thing to have a tall figureand clean-cut limbs, but it seemed almost pathetic to be ranked, as itwere, with old china, no matter how full of soul the willow-patternmight be.
Now that Nina had fairly commenced the yachting cruise, she could bepleasant and jolly with Jack on board the boat, but when it came toleaving the ball-room at the Arlington for a little promenade with himon the verandas, the idea seemed slow and uninviting. After a dance,Jack moved away with her, intending to saunter out through one of thelow windows.
"Don't you think it is pleasanter in here?" she said.
"Well, I find it a little warm here, don't you? Besides the moon isshining outside, and we can get a fine view of the lake from the end ofthe walk."
"But, my dear Jack, have we not been enjoying a fine view of the lakeall day? You see I don't want every person to think that we can not becontent unless we are mooning off together in some dark corner. It doesnot look well; now, does it?"
Jack raised his eyebrows. "I did not think you were so very careful ofMrs. Grundy. When did you turn over the new leaf? I suppose the idea didnot occur to you that being out with Geoffrey for two or three dancesmight also excite comment."
Nina had already surveyed the lake to some extent during the eveningunder pleasing auspices, but she did not like being reminded of it, andanswered hotly:
"How then, do you expect me to enjoy going to look at the lake again? Ihave seen the lake three times already this evening, and no person hasmade me feel that there was any great romance in the surroundings.Surely you don't think that you would conjure up the romance, do you?"
"Evidently I would not be able to do that for you," said Jack slowly,while he thought how different her feelings were from his own. It galledhim to have it placed before him how stale he had become to her. Heconquered his rising anger, and said:
"I am afraid that our engagement had become very prosaic to you."
"Horribly so," said Nina. "It all seems just as if we were married. Notquite so bad, though, because I suppose I would then have to be civil.What a bore! Fancy having to be civil continually!"
"I believe that a fair amount of civility is considered--"
"Oh, you need not tell me what our married life will be. I know allabout it. Mutual resignation and endearing nothings. Church on Sundays;wash on Mondays. It will be respectable and meritorious and virtuous andgenerally unbearable--"
"Hush, hush, Nina! Why do you talk in this strain? Why do you go out ofyour way to say unkind things? I know you do not mean a quarter of whatyou say. If I thought you did I--"
"Was I saying unkind things?" interrupted Nina. "I did not think oftheir being unkind. It seems natural enough to look at things in thisway."
She was endeavoring now to neutralize her hasty words by softer tones,and she only made matters worse. It is difficult to climb clear of theconsciousness of our own necessities when it envelops us like a fog,obscuring the path. In some way a good deal of what she said to Jack nowseemed tinged with the wrong color, and out of the effort to be pleasanthad begun to grow a distaste for his presence. Much as she still likedhim, she always tried during this cruise to get into the boat or intothe party where Jack was not.
It had been his own proposal that she should see a good deal ofHampstead, and so it never occurred to him to be jealous; and afterwardshe became more crafty in blinding his eyes to the real cause of thedissatisfaction she now expressed. While in Jack's presence her mannertoward Geoffrey was studiously off-hand and friendly. Whatever hermanner might be when they strolled off together, it was certain that anunderstanding existed between the two to conceal from Jack whateverinterest they might have in one another. She was forced to thinkcontinuously of Geoffrey so that every other train of thought sank intoinsignificance, and was crowded out. A colder person, with temptationinfinitely less, would have done what was right and would have capturedthe world's approbation. It would do harm to examine too closely thenatures of many saints of pious memory and to be obliged to paint outtheir accustomed halo. If the convicted are ever more richly endowedthan the social arbiters, they are different and not understood, andtherefore judged. No s
in is so great as that which we ourselves are nottempted to commit. Ignorance either deifies or spits upon what can notbe understood. But, after all, we must have some standard, some socialtribunal; and social wrong, no matter how it is looked at, must beprevented, no matter how well we understand that some are, as regardssocial law, made crooked.
But let us hasten more slowly.
Sunday morning, strangely enough, followed the Saturday night which hadbeen spent at the Arlington. The daylight of Sunday followed about twohours after the last man coaxed himself to his berth from the yacht'sdeck and the tempting night. When all the others were fairly off in asolid sleep, as if wound up for twenty-four hours, one individualarrived at partial consciousness and wondered where he was. A sensationof pleasure pervaded him. Something new and enjoyable lay before him,but he could not make up his mind what it was. That he was not in 173Tremaine Buildings seemed certain. If not there, where was he? To fullyconsider the matter he sat up in his berth and gave his head a thump ona beam overhead, which conveyed some intelligence to him. Then, lyingback on the pillow, he laughed and rubbed his poll. "A lubber'smistake," quoth he; and then, after a little, "I wonder what it's likeoutside?" A lanky figure in a long white garment was presently to beseen stumbling up the companion-way, and a head appeared above the deckwith hair disheveled looking like a sleepy bird of prey. All around itwas so still that nothing could be heard but some one snoring downbelow. The yacht lay with her anchor-chain nowhere--a thread would haveheld her in position. The boats behind were lying motionless with theirbows under the yacht's counter, drawn up there by the weight of theirown painters lying in the water. Maurice gazed about the littlewharf-surrounded harbor with curiosity and artistic pleasure. It couldonly have been this and the feeling of gladness in him that made himinterested in the lumber-piles and railway-derricks about him, but itwas all so new and strange to him. "Gad! to be off like this, on ayacht, and to live on board, you know!" said he, talking to himself, ashe hoisted himself up by his arms and sat on the top of the slidinghatchway. He moved away soon after sitting down, because of about halfan inch of cold dew on the hatch. This awakened him completely. Hewalked gingerly toward the stern and looked at the blaze of red and goldin the eastern sky where the sun was making a triumphal entry. Then hewalked to the bow and watched the light gild the masts of thelumber-schooners and the fog-bank over the lake, and the carcass of adrowned dog floating close at hand. He saw bits of the shore beyond thetown and wanted to go there. He wanted to inspect the little squatlighthouse that shone in its reflected glory better than it ever shoneat night. Yes, he must see all these things. It was all fairyland tohim. The gig was carefully pulled alongside when, happy thought! a smokewould be just the thing. The weird figure dived down for pipe, matches,and "'baccy," and soon came up smiling. "Never knew anything so quietas this," he said, as he filled the pipe. The snore below seemed to bethe only note typical of the scene--not very musical, perhaps, buteloquent and artistically correct.
He had not gone far in the gig when he came across the picturesquedrowned dog. Really it would be too bad to allow this to remain where itwas, even though gilded. The sun would get up higher, and then therewould be no poetry about it, but only plain dog. So he went back to thedeck and saw a boat-hook. That would do well enough to remove theeyesore with, but how could he row and hold the boat-hook at the sametime? If he only had a bit of string, now, or a piece of rope! But thesearticles are not to be found on a well-kept deck, and it would not beright to wake up anybody. Happy thought! He took the pike-pole and rowedrapidly toward the dog, and, as he passed it, dropped the oars andgrabbed the dog with the end of the pike-pole. His idea was that themomentum of the boat would, by repeated efforts, remove the dog. But thedeceased was not to be coaxed in this way from the little harbor wherehe had so peacefully floated for four weeks. So Maurice, after sufferingin the contest, went on board again. Still the snore below went on, andstill nobody got up to help him. He searched the deck for any part ofthe rigging that would suit him, determined to cut away as much as hewanted of whatever came first. Ah! the signal halyards! He soon hadabout two hundred feet unrove, little recking of the man who had to"shin up" to the topmast-head to reeve the line again. The dog must go.That Margaret's eyes should not be insulted was so settled in hischivalrous little head that--well, in fact, the dog would have to go,and, if not by hook or by crook, he finally went lassoed a good twohundred feet behind, Rankin rowing lustily.
After this object had been committed to the deep, a seagull came andlighted on a floating plank to consider the situation, and gave a crythat could be heard a vast distance. Maurice rowed out about half a mileinto the lake, and then could be seen a lithe figure diving in over theside of the boat and disporting itself, which uttered cries like apeacock when it came to the surface, and interested the lethargicseagulls.
While he was doing this the fog bank slowly moved in from the lake andenveloped him, so that he began to wonder where the shore was. He gotinto the boat, without taking the trouble to don his garment, and rowedtoward the place where he thought the shore was. Half an hour's rowingbrought him back to some driftwood which he had noticed before, so hegave up rowing in circles, put on the garment, settled himself in thestern-sheets, and lit a pipe. The air was warm, and a gentle motion inthe lake rocked him comfortably, until a voice aroused him that mighthave been a hundred yards or two miles off.
"Ahoy!" came over the water.
"Ahoy yourself," called Rankin.
Jack had got up, and, having missed the gig, had come to the end of thewharf in his basswood canoe, which the Ideal also carried in thiscruise.
"By Jove," thought Jack, "I believe that's Morry out there in the fog;he will never get back as long as he can not see the shore."
"Ahoy there," he called again.
"Ahoy yourself," came back in a tone of indifference.
"Where are you?"
"Never you mind."
"Who is out there with you?"
"The gulls," answered Maurice, as he smiled to himself.
Jack did not quite hear him. "The Gull?" thought he. "Surely not! Why,he must be at least three miles off."
"Do you mean the Gull Light?" he called.
"Ya-as. What's the matter with you, any way?"
They were so far apart that their voices sounded to each other as ifthey came through a telephone.
At this time the fog had lifted from Maurice, and he lay basking in thesun, perfectly content with everything, while Jack, still enveloped infog, was feeling quite anxious about him. He paddled quickly back to theyacht and got a pocket compass, and with this in the bottom of the canoesteered sou'-sou'west until he got out of the fog, and discovered thegig floating high up at the bow and low down aft, puffing smoke anddrifting up the lake before an easterly breeze and looking, in thedistance, rather like a steam-barge.
"Is that the costume you go cruising in?" asked Jack, as he drew near.
"This is the latest fashion, Mother Hubbard gown, don't you know!" saidMaurice, as he viewed his spindle calves with satisfaction. "Look atthat for a leg," he cried, as he waved a pipe-stem in the air. "Nodiscount on that leg."
"Nor anything else," growled Jack. "What do you mean by going off thisway with the ship's boats?"
"Not piracy, is it?" asked Morry.
"Don't know," said Jack, "but I am going to arrest you for being adissolute, naked vagrant, without visible means of support, and I shalltake you to the place whence you came and--"
"Bet you half a dollar you don't. I'm on the high seas, so 'get out ofme nar-east coorse,' or by the holy poker I'll sink you."
Jack came along to tie the gig's painter to his canoe and thus take itinto custody. Then a splashing match followed, during which Jack gothold of the rope and began to paddle away. This was but a temporaryadvantage. A wild figure leaped from the gig and lit on the gunwale ofthe canoe, causing confusion in the enemy's fleet. Jack had just time tograb his compass when he was shot out into the "drink," as if from acatapult, and w
hen he came to the surface he had to pick up his paddle,while Morry swam back to the gig, proceeding to row about triumphantly,having the enemy swamped and at his mercy. The overturned canoe wouldbarely float Jack, so Rankin made him beg for mercy and promise to makehim an eggnog when they reached the yacht. When on board again theyslept three hours before anybody thought of getting up.
As eight o'clock was striking in the town, these two children thought itwas time for everybody to be up. They were spoiling for some kind ofdevilment. Geoffrey and Charley and others were already awake, and hadslipped into shirt and trousers to go away for a morning swim in thelake.
Jack visited the sleepers with a yell. Mr. Lemons, another proposedvictim of the Dusenalls, still slept peacefully.
"Now, then, do get up!" cried Jack, in a tone of reproach.
"Wha's matter?"
"Get up," yelled Jack.
"Wha' for?"
"To wash yourself, man."
Suppressed laughter was heard from the ladies' cabins.
"Gor any washstands on board?" still half asleep, but sliding into anold pair of sailing trousers.
"Washstands? Well, I never! Wouldn't a Turkish bath satisfy you? No,sir! You'll dive off the end of the pier with the others."
"Not much. Gimme bucket an' piece soap."
"What! you won't wash yourself?" cried Jack, at the top of his voice."Oh, this is horrible! I say there, aft! you, fellows, come here! Lemonssays he won't wash himself."
At this four or five men ran in and pulled him on deck, where Charleystood with a towel in his hand. No one would give Lemons a chance toexplain. They said, "See here, skipper, Lemons won't wash himself."
Charley's countenance assumed an expression of disgust. "Oh, the dirtyswab! Heave him overboard!"
Lemons broke away then and tried to climb the rigging, but he was caughtand carried back, two men at each limb, who showered reproach upon him.The victim was as helpless as a babe in their hands, and was consciousthat the ladies had heard everything.
Charlie rapped on the admiralty skylight and asked for instructions. Hedeclared Lemons would not wash himself, and he asked what should be donewith him? In vain the victim cried that the whole thing was a plot. Aprompt answer came, with the sound of laughter, from the admiralty thathe was to go overboard. This was received with savage satisfaction, and,after three swings backward and forward, Lemon's body was launched intothe air and disappeared under the water.
But Lemons did not come up again. In two or three seconds it occurred tosome one to ask whether Lemons could swim. They had taken it for grantedthat he could. The thought came over them that perhaps by this time hewas gone forever. Without waiting further, Geoffrey dived off thewall-sided yacht to grope along the bottom, which was only twelve feetfrom the surface. He entered the water like a knife, and from thebubbles that rose to the surface it could be seen that a thorough searchwas being made. Each one took slightly different directions, and wentover the side, one after another, like mud-turtles off a log. Betweenthem all, the chance of his remaining drowned upon the bottom was small.Several came up for air, and dived again in another place and met eachother below. There was no gamboling now. They were horrified, and lookedupon it as a matter of life or death. They dived again and again, untilone man came up bleeding at the nose and sick with exhaustion. Geoffreyswam to help him to reach the yacht, when an explosion of laughter washeard on the deck, and there was Lemons, with the laugh entirely on hisside. As soon as he had got underneath the surface he had dived deep,and by swimming under water had come up under the counter, where hewaited till all were in the water, and then he came on deck.
Revenge was never more complete. Lemons was the hero of the hour. Thegirls thought him splendid, and afterward the sight of eight pairs oftrousers and eight shirts drying on the main-boom seemed to do him good.
Charlie said they ought not to make a laundry clothes-horse of the yachton Sunday, and proposed to leave Cobourg. Mrs. Dusenall made a slightdemur to leaving on Sunday. Jack explained that if it blew hard from thesouth they could not get out at all without a steam-tug from Port Hope.This seemed a bore--to be locked up, willy-nilly, in harbor--so theyacht was warped to the head of the east pier, where, catching thebreeze, she cleared the west pier and headed out into the lake. Outsidethey found the wind pretty well ahead and increasing, but, with sailsflattened in, the Ideal lay down to it, and clawed up to windward in away that did their hearts good.
Some topsails were soon descried far away to windward, showing where twoother vessels were also beating down the lake. This gave them somethingto try for, and when the topmast was housed and all made snug not agreat while elapsed before the hulls of the schooners becameoccasionally visible. The sea was much higher and the motion greaterthan on the previous day, but the breeze, being ahead, was morerefreshing, and nobody felt in danger of being ill after the first hourout. They "came to" under the wooded rocks of Nicholas Island, put in acouple of reefs, for comfort's sake, and "hove to" in calm water to takelunch quietly.
After lunch, as the yacht paid off on a tack to the southward to weatherthe Scotch Bonnet Lighthouse, they found, on leaving the shelter of theisland, a sea rolling outside large enough to satisfy any of them. Onehardly realizes from looking at a small atlas what a nice little jump ofa sea Ontario can produce in these parts. The hour lost in mollycoddlingfor lunch under the island made a difference in the work the yacht hadto do. The two schooners, having received another long start, weremaking good weather of it well to windward of the light, and, when onthe tops of waves, their hulls could be seen launching ahead in finestyle through the white crests. The yacht's rigging, as she soared tothe top of the wave, supplied a musical instrument for the wind to playbarbaric tunes upon, which to Jack and some others were inspiring. Asshe swept down the breezy side of a conquered wave, her rigging soundeda savage challenge to the next bottle-green-and-white mountain to comeon and be cut down.
Mrs. Dusenall went below and fell asleep in her berth, and some of theothers were lying about the after-cabin dozing over books. Nina and theDusenall girls lay on the sloping deck, propped against thecompanion-hatch, where they could command the attention of several otherpeople who were sprawled about in the neighborhood of the wheel.Margaret and Rankin persisted in climbing about the slanting decks,changing their positions as new notions about the sailing of the vesselcame to them. They seemed so pleased with each other and witheverything--exchanging their private little jokes and relishing the oddscraps culled from favorite authors that each brought out in the talk,as old friends can. Maurice made love to her in the openest way--everyglance straight into her deep-sea eyes. Not possessing a muscle or afigure, he wooed her with his wits and a certain virtuous boldness thatasserted his unmixed admiration and his quaint ideas with some force.And she to him was partly motherly, chiefly sisterly, and partlycoquettish, like one who accepts the admiration of half a score beforeher girlish fancies are gathered into the great egotism of the one whoshall reign thrice-crowned. Just look at Geoffrey now, as he nears thisschooner, steering the yacht as she comes up behind and to leeward ofthe big vessel that majestically spurns the waves into half an acre offoam. They tell him he can't weather her, that he'll have to bear away.Now look at his muscular full neck and thick crisp curls. See his jawgrow rigid and his eye flash as he calculates the weight of the wind andthe shape of the sea, the set of the sails, and the distances.Obviously, a man to have his way. Objections do not affect him. See howMargaret's eyes sweep quickly from the schooner back to Geoffrey, towatch what he is doing. Why is it when they say he can't do it that itnever occurs to her that he won't? She looks at him open-eyed andthoughtful, and thinks it is fine to carry the courage of one's opinionsto success, and she smiles as the yacht skillfully evades the main-boomof the schooner and saws up on her windward side.
The sunrise that Maurice saw early in the morning was too sweet to bewholesome. As the day wore on, the barometer grew unsteady. A leadenscud came flying overhead, and the fellows began to wonder wh
ether theywould have to thrash around Long Point all night. A good many opinionswere passed on the weather, which certainly did not look promising.Margaret suggested that it would be more comfortable to go into port,but was just as well pleased to hear that they had either to go aboutforty miles further for a shelter or else run back to Cobourg. PresqueIsle was not spoken of, since it was too shallow and intricate to entersafely at night. Lemons suggested that they should go back and anchorunder Nicholas Island, where they had lunched.
"Might as well look for needle in a hay-stack," said Charley. "It'sgoing to be as black as a pocket when daylight is gone. And if you didget there it is no place to anchor on a night like this."
Jack did not say anything. He knew that Charley would go on to SouthBay, and he looked forward to another night of it round Long Point. Theonly person who cared much what was done was Mr. Lemons. Towards eveninghe began to think about the next meal.
"My dear skipper, how can you ever get a dinner cooked in such a sea asthis? The cook will never be able to prepare anything in such acommotion," said he regretfully.
"Won't he!" exclaimed Charley decisively. "Just wait and see. My menunderstand that they have to cook if the vessel never gets up off herbeam ends."
"What, you do not mean to say it will be all--" Mr. Lemons came and laidhis head on Charley's shoulder--"that it will be all just as it wasyesterday? Oh, say that it will. 'Stay me with flagons; comfort me withapples.'"
"Get up--off me, you fat lump," cried Charley, pushing him awayvehemently. "I say that we will do better to-day, or we'll put the cookin irons. I hate a measly fellow who gives in just when you want him. Ihave sacked four stewards and six cooks about this very thing, and it isa sore subject with me."
"De-lightful man," said Lemons, gazing rapturously at Charley.
"Rankin will tell you," said Jack. "He drew the papers. The whole thingis down in black and white."
"True enough," said Maurice. "But I don't see how signing papers willteach a man to cook on the side of a stove, when the ship is lying overand pitching like this."
"No more do I," said Lemons anxiously.
"Why, man alive!" said Charley, "the whole stove works something like acompass, don't-you-know. He has got it all swinging--slung in irons."
"That is far better than having the cook in irons," suggested Margaret.
"Oh!" said Mr. Lemons, as he gazed at the sky, "that remark appeals tome. The lady is correct."
Then he arose and grasped Charley in a vice-like grip, for though fat hewas powerful. He pinned the skipper to the deck and sat upon him.
"Say, dearest," he cooed into his ear, "at about what hour will thisheavenly-repast be ready?"
"Pull him off--somebody!" groaned Charley. "I hate a man that has to bethrown in the water to--" a thump on the back silenced him.
"May I convey your commands to the Minister of the Interior," asked histormentor.
"Oh, my ribs! Yes. Tell him to begin at it at once."
"I don't mind if I do," said Mr. Lemons sagaciously; and he disappeareddown the companion-way to interview the cook.
"Ain't he a brick?" said Charley, after Lemons had gone forward. "He's aregular one-er, that chap! Give him his meals on time and he's thegamest old sardine. By the way, let us have a sweepstake on the time wedrop anchor in South Bay."
"We haven't any money in these togs," said Geoffrey.
"Well, you'll all have to owe it, then. We'll imagine there's a quarterapiece in the pool."
Margaret wanted to know what was to be done. It was explained that eachperson had to write his name on a folded paper with the time he thoughtanchor would be dropped in South Bay. The names were read out afterward.They all, with two exceptions, ranged between one o'clock at night andseven the next morning. The sea was running tremendously high and thewind dead ahead. It was now seven o'clock in the evening and with somethirty-five miles yet to beat to windward. What surprised them all wasthat Jack had chosen ten o'clock and Charley half-past ten of the sameevening. They explained that they had based their ideas on the clouds.
"If you look carefully," said Jack, "you'll see that close to this lowerscud coming from the east, there is a lighter cloud flying out the southand west."
"I wish, Jack, you had not come on this trip," said Charley. "I couldmake lots of money if you were not on board."
Sure enough, the yacht began to point up nearer and nearer to hercourse, soon after they spoke. Presently she lay her course, with thesheet lightly started, mounting over the head seas like a race-horse,and roaring straight into the oncoming walls of water till it seemed asif her bowsprit would be whipped out. The wind kept veering till at lastthey had a quarterly breeze driving them forcibly into the seas that hadbeen rising all day. Ordinarily they would have shortened sail to easethe boat, but now that dinner was ordered for half-past nine o'clock,they drove her through it in order that they might dine in calm water.
They raced past the revolving light on Long Point faster than they hadexpected to pass it that night. The twenty-five miles run from here wasmade in darkness and gloom. The boom was topped up to keep it out of thewater, and the peak of the reefed mainsail was dropped, as theincreasing gale threatened to bury the bows too much in the head seas.Although early enough in the evening, everything around was, as Charleyhad predicted, as black as a pocket. Now and then some rain drove overthem. Maurice and Margaret sat out together on deck, wrapped in heavycoats, and watched what little they could see. The howling of the windand roaring of the black surges beneath them were new experiences. Closeto them was Jack, standing at the wheel, tooling her through. By thebinnacle-light his face, which was about all that could be seen, seemedto be filled with a grave contentment that broke into a grim smile whenthe boat surged into a wall of water that would have stopped abluff-bowed craft. Soon after dropping Long Point, he leaned over thehatchway and called down to Charley, who was lying on his back on gaycushions, smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper. "Got the DuckLight, skip."
"All right, old boy. Wire in."
Dusenall turned over his newspaper, but did not take the trouble to comeon deck to investigate.
"Say!" he called.
"Hello."
"Won't she take the peak again? I've got a terrible twist on me fordinner."
"No. Bare poles is more what she wants just now," said Jack.
"The deuce! Who's forrud?"
"Billy and Joe."
"All right. Must be damp for 'em up there."
"Can't see. Guess it's blue water to the knees, most of the time."
"Shouldn't wonder. Do 'em good."
After this jargon was finished, it did not take long to run down to theFalse Duck Light. Here the double-reefed mainsail was "squatted" and thefourth reef-pennant hauled down. The reefed staysail was taken in andstowed; and under the peak of the mainsail they jibed over. Steering bythe compass, they then rounded to leeward of Timber Island and hauledtheir wind into South Bay.
To put the Ideal over so far with so little canvas showing, it must havebeen blowing a gale. They sped up into the bay close hauled, and "cameto" in about four fathoms. Down went the big anchor through the hissingripples to that best of holding-grounds, and the vessel, drifting backas if for another wild run, suddenly fetched up with a grind on her ironcable. The mad thing knew that unyielding grip, and swung aroundsubmissively.