There was no answer to the question. The tide was now booming on the beach and a fresher breeze was springing up, the wind outside having veered until it blew directly into the cove. The girl waited for the return of the "Sister Sue" until long after midnight, then went to bed. The sky had become overcast and a spattering of raindrops smote her in the face. The prospect was for a drizzly night.
When the camp awakened next morning the sloop was at her anchorage. What time she had come in Harriet had not the slightest idea, but it must have been early in the morning, because the skipper was just furling the mainsail as the girl emerged from the cabin. The sail was so soaked that he had difficulty in bending it to the boom to which he was trying to house it. But Harriet Burrell said nothing of her discovery at breakfast that morning. Later in the day she confided the secret to Tommy. The latter twisted her face, grimaced and winked wisely. The two girls understood each other.
Captain Bill did not mention having been out with the boat, though Harriet gave him an excellent opportunity to do so that same day. A drenching drizzle fell all day long. Of course, this did not interfere with the camp work. The Camp Girls never ceased their labors for rain or storm of any kind. Later on in the day the Meadow-Brook Girls went aboard the sloop with their guardian, principally for the reason that Harriet wished to take further lessons in seamanship. She had learned her compass card well and earned the praise of the grizzled old skipper, but she was ambitious to accomplish greater things.
Several days passed, during which the drizzle scarcely ceased for a moment. But during all this time the young woman was not idle, so far as her new interests were concerned. She had asked questions, inquiring the names of things and their uses until she knew them intimately. The ropes and stays, from a mass of complex, meaningless cordage, had resolved themselves into individual units, each of which had its use and its purpose; the compass was no longer a mystery, and, during a lull in the drizzle, when the sun had come out on the fifth day, Harriet was permitted to take an observation with the sextant, the instrument with which mariners take sights to determine their positions at sea.
Harriet was instructed to catch the sun at its zenith, which she did, noting the figures on the scale of the sextant and from which, under the instruction of the captain, she figured out the latitude of the sloop. He allowed her to do all the figuring herself. The result was startling. The skipper took her calculations, studied them, frowned, then permitted his face to expand into a wrinkled grin.
"Young lady, did you think this was Noah's Ark!" he demanded.
"No, sir. Wh—y?"
"Because according to your figures the 'Sister Sue' is at this minute located on a line with Mt. Washington, off yonder in the White Range."
Harriet flushed to the roots of her hair as her companions shouted gleefully. At last Harriet Burrell had found something that she could not do. But the captain quickly informed them that to be able to take observations accurately, and then figure them out, required long and close application. Some mariners never were really good at theoretical navigation. Nor had Harriet, as yet, mastered the principles of trigonometry, which branch of mathematics underlies navigation.
On the following morning the sun came out, and by the time the camp was awake the mainsails and jibs had been put out to dry. They were permitted to swing free all day long and by nightfall were dry and white, ready for the next sail. Captain Billy had promised them a long sail, though not having told them where. That evening he consulted with the Chief Guardian in her tent, with the result that the Meadow-Brook Girls, Miss Elting and five of their companions were told to prepare themselves for an early departure on the following morning, provided the day were fair.