"Yes," said Jimmy, "it's blowing itself out. I expect we'll be able to shake the reefs out of the trysail and beat up for the Inlet before it's dark. If it were necessary I would run her before it now."
"Wouldn't there be shelter in one of the inlets to leeward?" asked the girl, with a very natural longing to escape from the strain and turmoil.
"It's very probable," said Jimmy. "I dare say I could make one. Still, you see——"
He stopped, and Anthea flushed ever so slightly, for it was evident to her that she and her companion could not extend that cruise indefinitely in company with Valentine's hired man.
"Of course!" she said. "Austerly will be horribly anxious. Well, if you think you could leave the tiller lashed, I have dinner ready."
"I believe I could. Still, it might be awkward to get back fast enough from the forecastle in case of necessity."
"I wonder," said the girl, "whether you have any very decided objections to sitting down with us in the saloon? If you have, it would make it necessary for Nellie or me to bring the things out to you."
Jimmy fancied that the last was an inspiration, and after a glance to windward went down into the saloon, which was very wet. Miss Austerly, who seemed to have stood the shaking better than he expected, reclined on one settee with her feet drawn up for the sake of dryness, and she smiled at him. He wondered when he saw how the little swing-table was set. Miss Merril, finding the crockery kept for charterers mostly smashed, had apparently come upon Valentine's enameled and indurated ware.
There was no restraint upon any of them during the meal. The fact that the breeze was undoubtedly falling would have been sufficient in itself to restore their cheerfulness, but Jimmy was also sensible of a curious exhilaration, and discoursed whimsically upon various topics besides the sea. In fact, he was astonished to find that he had been away an hour when at last he went back to the cockpit. The breeze was falling rapidly, and before Anthea prepared the supper, which was, as usual in that country, at about six o'clock, he had set the whole trysail, and soon afterward he got the reefed mainsail up. By midnight the Sorata was close in with the coast, working fast to windward through smooth water with her biggest topsail set, while a half-moon hung low in the western sky. The sea gleamed silver under it, and scarcely half a mile away dim hillsides and long ranks of somber pines half-veiled in fleecy mists went sliding by.
The soft gleam of the swinging lamps in the saloon shone out in faint streams of colored radiance through the skylights, and, late as it was, Nellie Austerly nestled well wrapped up on a locker in the cockpit. She watched the long swell break away from beneath the bows in glittering cascades, and Jimmy fancied he knew what she was thinking when she gazed aloft at the tall spire of canvas that shone in the moonlight as white as the peak ahead of them. It was a nocturne in blue and silver, and if sound were wanted, the splashing at the bows and the deep rumble of the surf emphasized the softer harmonies of the night.