With such little jokes we tried to hide the fear which sat heavily on every heart.
"There it is again," said Kathleen, looking eagerly around. "It sounds like a bell."
I raised myself on my elbow. "It must be the bell buoy," I exclaimed. "I have heard father talk about it. It is a great big buoy, painted red and white. There's a bell on the top, and four hammers which swing up against it with the waves."
"Is there danger there?" said Rupert, standing up again, and grasping his oar.
"Not for us, I think. I almost forget; but I think father said it was put to show the steamers their course when they are up the Chiswell to Barford."
"What! is there another river up there? No wonder we have such a tossing. There's the bell again—we must be getting nearer to it. There it is. Ship, ahoy! Why didn't you shout, captain?"
We were making straight for the bell buoy, but I saw that we were also making straight for the open sea. In an instant a prayer came to my lips, and I said aloud: "Oh, God, show us what we ought to do."
Like a direct answer from Heaven, which we all believed it was, Kathleen said, "Tie the boat to the buoy, Rupert."
In the excitement, eager to help, eager to see, I raised myself to my knees, and then dropped back; I had never done so much in my life before.
It was a terrible moment of suspense, and then Rupert almost fell into Kathleen's arms.