Completely tired, the two children lay sobbing and clinging to each other, no longer looking toward the shore, because now they were too far out to clearly see it.
A white gull circled near them, and the whirring of its wings made Polly open her eyes.
"A great gull!" she whispered, then, oh, the joy in her cry:
"'The Dolphin!' 'The Dolphin!'"
Rose scrambled to her knees.
"Oh, it is! It is! DEAR Uncle John!" she cried.
It was a quick turn from terror in the little boat to joy and safety in the big yacht, with Uncle John, big, brave Uncle John, to care for them.
"You must tell me all about this," he said, when they were once aboard the yacht, "but not a word until after we've had a wee lunch."
The steward brought dainty sandwiches, cakes, fruit and hot chocolate, and the happy little trio enjoyed it heartily, partly because it was a delicious spread, but far more because of their feeling of safety after their terror.
The children had been frightened, but bright, cheery Uncle John had suffered more than he would have admitted when, through his powerful glass, he had seen the two little occupants of the rowboat crouching close together, rocked at the will of the waves and going steadily out to the open sea.