"There is one thing--even a privateer could not sail very fast in this light wind and, if it freshens in the morning, we can get up the sail."
"Then I hope it will get up a bit," Ryan said, "for after another five or six hours' rowing, with these beastly oars, my hands will be raw; and I am sure my back and arms will be nearly broken."
"We must risk that, Dick. We calculated fifteen miles in a straight line across to Jersey, so that we must jog along at the rate of a couple of miles an hour to get far enough to the west. Now then, let us be moving again."
The night seemed interminable to them; and they felt relieved, indeed, when morning began to break. In another half hour it would be light enough for them to see for a considerable distance. Unshipping their oars, they stood up and looked round.
"That must be Jersey," Terence exclaimed, pointing to the north. "The current must have taken us past it, as I was afraid it would. What time is it, Dick?"
"Nearly eight."
"Then tide must be turning already. The island must be six miles away now. If we row hard we shall know, in half an hour, whether we are being carried north or south."
"But we must be going north if tide has turned, Terence?"
"I don't know--I remember that the mate of the Sea Horse said that, in the Channel, the course of the current did not change at high and low water; so there is no saying what way we are going, at present. Well, there is a little more wind, and I suppose we had better get up our sail. There is Jersey, and whether we get there a little sooner or a little later cannot make much difference. I am sure we are both too tired to row her much faster than we can sail."
Terence agreed, and they accordingly stepped the mast and hoisted the sail. At first the boat moved but slowly through the water, but the wind was freshening and, in half an hour, she was foaming along.