"Good!" exclaimed Paul, with a hearty laugh.

"What is the matter now?" demanded Thomas.

"The idea of striking a rock on the weather side!" laughed Paul.

"You are right; I didn't think."

The boat now came into comparatively still water, under the lee of Long Island, as the outermost of three small islets, extending out in a line from the mouth of the river, was called. The island was a ma.s.s of rocks, rising from ten to twenty feet above high water mark, and as they got behind it, they were sheltered from the force of the wind. In this situation, Paul attempted to tack; but the old boat would not come round in stays, for she had partially lost her headway, and the tide was against her.

"That's bad," said Thomas; "we shall lose all we have gained by this."

"Take an oar and heave her head round, then," replied Paul.

"Ay, ay;" and Thomas took the oar, and brought her head up to the wind.

There was a coolness and self-possession in the demeanor of Paul which filled his companion with confidence as well as admiration, though he was in no humor to acknowledge it. If Thomas was not actually terrified by the sweeping billows and the rude pitching of the boat, it was only because he felt that he was in the charge of a skilful boatman. The old craft soon caught the wind on the other tack, and drove out among the big waves again.

Paul's mother was still on the beach watching the uneasy movements of the boat, and in momentary expectation that she would be swamped. Her earnest gestures were disregarded by her son, and she was prepared for the worst fate that could befall him. Paul tried to keep his eyes away from her; but he could not help stealing an occasional glance at her, though his conscience reproached him for the pain and terror he was giving her. But he felt that his courage and his reputation as a boatman were at stake, and that, if he failed to achieve the purpose before him, he would be the derision of Thomas Nettle and all his companions.

For two hours the boat labored heavily in the rough sea, and had accomplished about two thirds of the distance to Tenean Point. The young adventurers were now in the worst place in the bay, and the boat was exposed to the full force of the wind and the sea, from which they had before been partially protected by an island.

"What do you think, Paul?" said Thomas, suspending for a moment the work of baling, in which he had been engaged for the last hour.

"What do I think?" replied Paul, coolly, as he wiped the spray from his eyes; "I think it blows tremendous hard."

"So do I."

"Then we shan't quarrel about that, anyhow."

"Do you think you can make the Point?"

"Certainly I do; I'm in for it, at any rate."

"We don't make much headway."

"That's true."

"I shan't get to the picnic in any kind of season," continued Thomas, crouching down under the weather rail, as a huge wave gave the boat a slap that made her quiver like a leaf.

"I can't help that, Tom; I didn't want you to come this way."

"Don't you think we had better run for the sh.o.r.e, and give it up?"

"I don't think any such thing. If the old boat will only hold together long enough, I'll put you ash.o.r.e on Tenean Point."

"I'm afraid she won't hold together much longer."

"No matter; we will go it while she does hold together. Can you swim, Tom?"

"You know very well I can swim, Paul."

"Better get your boots off, then."

"Who do you suppose could swim ash.o.r.e in such a sea as this? Besides, it is over a half a mile, and the surf on the beach would tear a fellow all to pieces."

"You ought to have thought of these things before you came out here."

"It is a great deal worse than I had any idea of," answered Thomas, who had proceeded far enough to be willing to yield a point. "For my part, I am willing to be landed here;" and he pointed to a little cove on the Tenean sh.o.r.e.

"You don't say you have got enough of it, Tom," said Paul, with a smile.

"Enough of it! I want to get to the picnic some time to-day. I hope you don't think I am frightened."

"Of course I don't; you daresn't be frightened after all your big talk before we came out."

"I'll give up on that, Paul. You are the s.p.u.n.kiest fellow with a boat I ever saw. I am willing to say that and stick to it."

"That's saying a good deal."

"But you mustn't suppose I am afraid."

"Of course not; you're only in a hurry to get to the picnic; that's the idea."

"That's just it, and if you will put me ash.o.r.e at the cove, I will be just as much obliged to you as though you carried me all the way to the Point."

"Let's not back out, Tom."

"I don't back out; and I'm sure you don't."

"It looks a little like backing out to give up the chase."

"You ought to be satisfied, if I am."

"I shan't be satisfied till I land you at the Point."

"Come, come, Paul, don't carry the joke too far. The sea is getting heavier and heavier, and the wind blows a young hurricane."

"O, well, if you really want to back out, I'm willing."

"I don't want to do anything of the sort. If you think I can't stand it as long as you can, you are mistaken," replied Thomas, proudly; and taking the dipper, he continued to bale out the water, whistling an air to indicate his indifference to the perils that surrounded them.

"Put her through, then; we shan't be much longer if we don't get swamped."

The boat was now standing out from the sh.o.r.e, and while Thomas was still busy, whistling off his fears, a violent gust of wind struck the sail, causing the boat to heel over so far that she drank up several buckets of water, and would have filled if the sprit had not broken, thus removing the pressure.

"Come, Paul, I have got enough of this," cried Thomas, uneasily.

"I don't think you will be able to get any more of it, for the sprit has snapped, and we can't carry sail any longer," replied Paul, apparently unmoved by the accident. "Bale her out as fast as you can, and I will take an oar, and keep her head up to the sea".