Vince glanced sidewise, to find that they were pretty well hidden by the sail; so he thrust out his hand, which was gripped fast, and the two boys sat there with throbbing hearts, trying to nerve themselves for anything that might happen now.
Then, without a word, Vince rose, and, steadying himself by the mast, he stepped over the thwart in which it was stepped, and then on to the next, close to where the old man sat steering right astern, and holding the sheet of the well-filled sail as well.
“This is not the way to the Crag,” said Vince, with his voice trembling slightly; and the old man grunted.
“Where are you making for?” said Vince, firmly now.
“Didn’t I tell yer I didn’t want to get run on the rocks?” roared the old man, unnecessarily loudly, after a glance back at the shore, where all was growing distant and dim.
“Yes, you told me so; but it isn’t true,” said Vince, in a voice he did not know for his own.
“What?” roared Daygo fiercely.
“You heard what I said. Run her up in the wind at once, and go back.”
“You go and sit down,” growled the old man savagely.
“You change her course,” said Vince firmly.