The fleet of jacks were now to be seen coming on rapidly; but presently, the squall proving too strong for them, they all came fluttering up into the wind and began to shorten sail.
"No heaving-to for this one, eh, Tim?" yelled Leary; and putting his wheel up, and feeling the Ligonier beginning to pay off and the anchor to drag, he gave the word to slip the cable.
Through the hawse-hole the clanking chain tore swiftly, and away came the Ligonier like a wild thing. Leary patted the wheel and began to talk to her:
"Crazy to get away, aren't you? Been laying too long to anchor, yes. No wonder. And I'll not stint you now—take your fill of it, girl." Which she did, and with Leary giving her plenty of wheel, through the white swash she scooped a long, wet rail.
Tim Lacy now came aft. "There they are waitin' for us—an' the joke of it is, Sammie, we c'n go out the North Passage with a fair wind. They must 'a' forgot that I was born and brought up in this very bay."
"But we're not goin' out the North Passage, Tim."
"No?"
"No."
"But why? An' it's a beat up by them."
"Well, a beat it'll be. Go for'ard now."