Christobel was not satisfied, though she had acted on the suggestion of a tack in the direction of Ramsworthy Cove, to the right of the Beak head--looking at it from the sea.
"I don't like to think of you and Hughie going ashore--all that way--alone," she said.
"Crow, you are hatching difficulties," retorted Pamela, "what else can we do? If Addie puts us ashore he'll have to leave you. Ought you to be left all alone on the yawl? What do you think, Addie?"
Adrian cut the Gordian knot by a new division of labour and a very decided opinion.
"Mother wouldn't like you and Hughie to go home--I mean, go ashore, from here--by yourselves. We know she wouldn't, so it's no use arguing. I vote Pam stays aboard with Crow while I put Hughie ashore at Ramsworthy Cove. Hughie can cut away home over Hawksdown, and race us, because the tide's turning already. When I've put him out I'll come back here. That's all about it, come on, youngster."
Pamela was disappointed, but she said nothing. A sailing boat in a calm is deadly dull most certainly, and Pamela objected strongly to dullness and monotony. Her inquiring mind was always seeking new interests, and she loved surprises--she was always trying to surprise herself, in small ways. The idea of rowing Hughie ashore and then going along round the headland to Bell Bay had appealed to her desire for adventure. However--of course Adrian was right, Mrs. Romilly would not have been pleased at such an independent excursion on the part of her younger children.
The dinghy started, and the mile of sea between lazily floating Messenger and the shadowy bay beyond the lighthouse point was quickly crossed. Adrian came back as quickly, and, as he sprang aboard and bent to tie up the tow rope, announced that the tide was flowing strongly.
"Wind or no wind," he said, "we shall get back before old Hughie. What a rum thing it is how that always happens. As long as you wait--you don't get it. Start doing something else, and there you are! Moral is--never wait. Always do something else. May as well tack, Crow--here's the wind too; breeze getting up with the tide of course!"
So the white yawl, leaning over very gently, gathered speed, and skimming through the smooth placid sea, made two tacks and picked up her moorings easily in half an hour.
The interest of this event is--what happened to Hughie, the human messenger.