“Wait until I’ve smoked my pipe out,” Bethune said lazily; and they sat still for a few minutes.
The sloop brought up, sheering to and fro in the eddying gusts. When Moran turned to look at her he jumped up with an exclamation.
“She’s off again!”
They watched her mast, and saw a gap open between it and a boulder. It was obvious that she was moving out to sea.
“The wind has changed since we left!” exclaimed Jimmy. “When she swung, she got a turn of her cable round the anchor-fluke and pulled it up.”
“We’d better run for the dory!” Bethune cried, setting off along the shore.
“No use!” Jimmy called after him. “There isn’t time.” He jerked off his heavy sea-boots as he added: “She’s dragging her cable along the bottom now, but it won’t check her long.”
The others saw that he was right. The water got deeper suddenly below the half-tide line, and when the boat had picked up her anchor her progress would be rapid.
“It’s too cold for swimming, and you can’t catch her!” Bethune expostulated breathlessly.
“I must do the best I can,” said Jimmy, flinging off his jacket and plunging into the water.