CHAPTER V.
Tied to the Bell Buoy.
I expect I fainted, for when I looked at Kathleen again she was bathing my face and hands with sea water, and the shores were ever so much farther off than they had been.
"Oh, Edric, what shall we do? What will uncle and aunt say? Are you better now? What is the time, Rupert?"
"Half-past four," said Rupert. "The tide runs out six hours, so we can't be back any way before midnight."
"Then I vote we have something to eat," said Jack, as usual the first to recover himself. "I say, Rupert, is it any good fagging away with that oar to keep her in the middle of the stream? Don't you think we might as well let her run aground?"
Rupert was standing in the bows, guiding the boat as they do the gondolas in Venice, and looked tired and anxious.
"I think we ought to go on," he said, quietly. "Edric has never been on the water but once, and I want to get him home. If we get stranded we are bound to stay till the tide comes up and floats us, and then there's a doubt whether we can get this heavy tub home with one oar. I think our best chance is to go down with the stream, till we get into the bay. Perhaps a boat will pass, and take us round to Craigstown."
"We could easily drive home from there at low water," said I, trying to speak cheerily, though I felt fearful. What a different party we were then, as the boat went swiftly down the river, widening and widening every moment.
"Now, captain, your eyes are good, whatever your legs and arms may be. Just keep a sharp look out, and shout 'Ship, ahoy!' the instant you see anything."
"What's that?" cried Harold, suddenly. "I heard a bell. I say, isn't it getting rough; don't pitch me overboard, please. You'd better sit down, Rupert, or you'll take a header. There's no one here to fish you out, and there isn't a towel on board. Stewardess, you'll please to take a month's notice for forgetting them."