“Have you the tools?”
“Everything, my lad. Trust me for that.”
“I do trust you, Bart, always.”
“And how are we to find our way back to the schooner in the dark?”
“We shall not find our way back in the dark, Bart, but sail right out here as near as we can guess, and then lie-to till daybreak.”
Bart kept his eyes fixed upon one particular light, and tried to calculate their bearings from its relation to another behind; but all the same, he felt in doubt, and shook his head again and again, when some blinding flash of lightning gave him a momentary glance of the shore.
But Jack did not hesitate for a moment, keeping the boat’s head in one direction with unerring instinct, till the waves were close upon their left, and it seemed that in another minute they must be swamped.
Bart half rose, ready to swim for his life, as the boat leapt high, then seemed to dive down headlong, rose again, dived, and then danced lightly up and down for a few minutes before gliding slowly on again.
“Was that the bar?” he whispered eagerly.
“Yes. It is rough at this time of the tide,” was the answer, given in the calmest manner, for Jack had not stirred.