"What do you mean?" the mate asked.
"Why we have been steering straight for the guns, have we not?"
"Of course we have."
"Well, we ought not to have done so. If the ship had been lying well out from the land it would have been all right; but she is lying in a deep bay, and of course a straight course to her from the point we started from would take us just where we are, that is ashore, on the other side of the headland."
"Of course it would. We ought to have kept well to seaward of the guns till they bore right on our beam, and then headed in to her. Well, fortunately no harm has been done, but we have had a mighty narrow escape. If the fog had been as thick as it was when it first came down upon us we should have gone right into it before we saw it."
The boat was turned and rowed out to sea for some distance, then they again headed her in the direction in which they wished to go, but keeping the guns well in shore of them until they judged by the sound that they were nearly opposite to her, then they rowed straight towards her. The sound of their oars was heard, and a loud hail informed them of the exact position of the ship, and two or three minutes later a dark image loomed up in front of the boat.
"All well, Mr. Ryan?" the captain shouted.
"All well, sir."
"You have given us a great fright," the captain went on. "We expected you back at least two hours ago, thinking of course you would have returned when the fog set in, even if you had not done so before."
"We had turned, sir, before the fog rolled in; but what with losing our way, and the difficulty of keeping our course in the fog, and the fact that there is, we think, a strong current that was running against us further out, we have been a long time coming back. So, you see, we have double banked all the oars."