"Be Jabers!" he exclaimed, "here is a sea-fog rolling down on us from the south!"
They looked and saw what seemed like a wall of white smoke rolling along the water towards them. At this moment the boat was about half-way between two headlands, which were a mile and a half apart, and the shore abreast of it was three-quarters of a mile distant. The sun was shining brightly upon the rolling mist, and the girls uttered an exclamation of admiration.
"How fast it comes!" Marion said. "Why, it will be here directly!"
The mate put the tiller a-starboard. "Row, men!" he said in a sharp voice; for they had for a moment ceased to pull.
"Have you a compass?" Mr. Atherton asked in low tones.
The mate shook his head. "I am no better than an idiot to have come without one," he said. "But who could have dreamt we should want it?"
A minute later a light wreath of mist crossed the boat, and almost immediately the great fog-bank rolled over it. An exclamation broke from several of those on board. So sudden was the change of temperature that it seemed as if an icy hand had been laid upon them.
"It is fortunate that we are not far from shore," Mr. Atherton said to the mate. "There is nothing for it but to coast along close in."
"That is the only thing to do," Mr. Ryan replied. "But it will be an awkward business; for, as we noticed when we came along, the shore is in many places studded with rocks. However, we must risk that, and by going on slowly and carefully we may get off with slight damage even if we hit one. It is not as if the water was rough."
The fog was so thick that they could scarcely see the ends of the oar-blades.