A boat, heavily laden, was rowing slowly towards them, making very little way against the gathering strength of the ebb tide and the easterly wind.
“Perhaps,” said Frank, “the people in that boat, if it ever gets here, will unwind us.”
The boat drew nearer and Priscilla declared that it was Kinsella’s.
“It’s Joseph Antony himself rowing her,” she said. “He’d be getting on faster if he had Jimmy along with him, but I suppose he’s off with the sponge lady again.”
Kinsella reached the Tortoise and stopped rowing.
“You’re out for a sail again today, Miss?” he said. “Well, it’s fine weather for the likes of you.”
“At the present moment,” said Priscilla, “we’re stuck and can’t get out.”
“Do you tell me that now? And what’s the matter with you?”
“The anchor rope is foul of the centreboard and we can’t get either the one or the other of them to move.”
“Begor!” said Joseph Antony.