The wind came from the Woodville side of the river, but it was very light, and the Greyhound moved but slowly. f.a.n.n.y was entirely satisfied with herself now, and was confident that she could manage any boat that ever floated. It was a very easy thing, she thought, and she did not see why folks made such a "fuss" about sailing a boat; anybody could do it, if they only thought they could. But the Greyhound did not move fast enough for her impatient temperament, and, against the remonstrances of her more prudent companion, she insisted upon setting the mainsail.

"Mr. Long may be after us soon, and we must get along as fast as we can," said she, as she took the throat halliard, and gave the peak to Kate. "Now, hoist away. We are as good sailors as any one need be."

The mainsail was set, and the Greyhound began to travel through the water pretty rapidly, much to the delight of f.a.n.n.y. She had been deceived in regard to the force of the wind; under the lee of the sh.o.r.e, where it was obstructed by the bank, by the trees, and by the buildings, the breeze was very light: out in the middle of the river the wind was quite strong; but the boat had not yet begun to feel its full force.

"Now she goes beautifully!" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y, as she observed the effect by the added sail.

"She goes very well; but don't you see how rough the water is out in the middle of the river?" replied Kate, rather anxiously, though she was not willing to acknowledge the full extent of her fears.

"That's nothing."

"But why don't you go down the river more, and keep out of that rough place?"

"I like the waves! It's splendid to hear them beating against the boat."

"It may be when you have a man in the boat with you," answered Kate, sceptically.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid; but I think folks ought to be very careful when they don't know anything about boats."

"But I know all about boats. Don't you see how beautifully she goes? I wish she would go a little faster."

"She goes fast enough," said Kate, as she listened to the ripple of the waves against the bow.

"She might go a little faster; besides, we are in a hurry."

"We are going fast enough, Fan."

"The faster the better! I suppose, when Mr. Long goes over to the school and finds we are not there, he will come down to the pier after us. We want to be out of sight when he gets there."

"Why should he come after us? I thought you said it was all right,"

demanded Kate, nervously.

"He will go over to the school to find out whether the teacher sent us after the boughs."

"_I_ wish I had not come," continued Kate, gloomily.

If she had known the whole truth, and understood the full extent of her bold companion's plans, she would have been still more dissatisfied with the situation.

"Here, Kate, you take the tiller a moment," said f.a.n.n.y, as she rose from her seat in the stern-sheets.

"What are you going to do now?" asked Kate, nervously.

"I'm going to hoist the other sail."

"We don't want it hoisted. We are going fast enough."

"We can just as well go faster; and I want to get out of sight before Mr. Long sees us," replied f.a.n.n.y, persuasively, though her bright eyes snapped with increasing l.u.s.tre under the excitement of the moment.

"I won't touch the tiller; I say we go fast enough. You want to drown me--don't you?"

"If I drown you, I must drown myself--mustn't I?"

"I won't touch the tiller; I don't want the other sail hoisted,"

persisted Kate.

"What are you afraid of? I didn't think you were a coward. If I had, I shouldn't have asked you to come with me."

"I'm not a coward, any more than you are. I don't see what you want to hoist the other sail for; we are going like fury through the water now."

"We need more head sail," answered f.a.n.n.y, using an expression she had borrowed from the nautical speeches of Ben, the boatman.

"No, we don't need more head sail," replied Kate, who, however, had not the most remote idea of the meaning of her friend's language.

"Take the tiller, Kate, and don't bother me."

"I will not."

"Then I will hoist the sail, and let the boat take care of herself while I do it. If she is upset, it will be your fault,--not mine."

f.a.n.n.y was resolute; she had a will, as well as a way, of her own. She did not want any advice, and she was not willing to take any. She looked upon her companion as a weak-minded, poor-spirited girl, and she treated her opinions and her wishes with the utmost contempt, now that she had her completely in her power. It was useless for Kate to attempt to oppose her.

"I don't know anything about the tiller, as you call it. I don't even know what it is, and I'm sure I couldn't tell what to do with it,"

continued Kate.

"That's a good girl!" replied f.a.n.n.y, in patronizing tones, when she saw that her companion was disposed to yield.

"I don't want to touch it."

"But you must."

"Must! Who says I must?"

"I say so; if you don't, we may be upset."

"I have gone far enough, Fan Grant; I don't want to go any farther: I want to go on sh.o.r.e again!" exclaimed Kate, now completely disgusted with the venture, for in addition to the perils of wrong doing, she found she must submit to the impudence and the arrogance of her friend.

"Well, why don't you go on sh.o.r.e?" replied f.a.n.n.y, with the utmost coolness and self-possession.

"You know I can't. Turn the boat round, and let me go back to the land."

"I think not."

"I have had enough of this thing."

"Will you take the tiller, or will you let the boat upset?" added f.a.n.n.y, with firmness and decision. "You can't go on sh.o.r.e again till I get ready to let you. I command this vessel, and if you ever want to put your foot on the dry land again, you must mind what I say."