"Are we?" he muttered indifferently.
"You're right, ma'm," broke in Bill. "The wind broke off soon arter you turned in, an' 'as been very unsteady ever since."
"Coming out of the nor-west," went on the woman calmly; "a nasty quarter in these seas."
"Can you locate us at all, Jack?" inquired Broncho.
"What's your dead reckoning for the last four hours?" asked the rover.
"We've been headin' a point off north most o' the time," returned Bill Benson, "and ain't averaged more'n two knots an hour."
"St. Jean Baptiste can't be far below the horizon in the nor-west," said Jack, after making a rapid mental calculation.
"Pass me over the sextant and I'll get a noon sight," observed Loyola quietly.
Bill stared in astonishment, and ejaculated half under his breath,
"Blawst me, but she's a sailor's daughter an' no mistake."