As the storm continued to sweep the Isobel on and on, with no sign of abatement, the older ones at least felt no desire to converse uselessly, and the little girls went to sleep in a berth. Fortunately they were not so seriously troubled by the peril that menaced as their elders. Even Agnes was subdued; but she, like Ruth, was courageous.
Mr. Howbridge finally gave up the attempt to start the engine. While the launch pitched so it was impossible to make any headway with the crippled mechanism of the Isobel. They managed to make some coffee, and with this and crackers, they tried to satisfy their appetites. Then they went to rest for the night. But nobody slept much.
In addition to the force of the wind, a certain current must have seized the boat, for she drove on for hours in a direction quite opposite to that in which the party wished to go. St. Sergius and any inhabited island they knew anything about were behind them.
With dawn the wind fell, the sea became calmer, and the clouds began to break. The first rays of the sun, when flung into their faces, did not dazzle their eyes so much that they could not observe an isle almost dead ahead. A cheerful green island it was with a hill in its center on which grew a very tall palm.
“We’re going to land there if it can be done,” declared Mr. Howbridge. “There are two long oars and you boys do what you can with them when we get close in.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” cried Neale cheerfully. “Looks as if we were going to play Robinson Crusoe for a while, doesn’t it?”
“More like the Swiss Family Robinson,” Luke remarked. “Looks like a deserted place, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t see any hotel,” rejoined the lawyer dryly. “But there is quiet water in that cove yonder. See if you can paddle us into it.”
At any rate, the strange island offered a refuge. And a bit of solid earth under their feet was what they all most craved.