Suddenly there was a jerk; the launch quivered, and swung about.
“Oh! what was that?” demanded Miss Colton, shortly.
“The anchor,” I answered. “We have reached the outer shoal.”
“And,” hesitatingly, “shall we stay here?”
“Yes; unless—”
“Unless what?”
“Unless . . . Hush! listen!”
There was an odd rushing sound from the darkness astern, a sort of hiss and low, watery roar. I rushed to the bow and dragged the anchor inboard with all my strength. Then I ran to the wheel. I had scarcely reached it when I felt a hand on my arm.
“What is it?” asked the young lady, her voice quivering. “Oh, what is it?”
“Wind,” I answered. “There is a squall coming. Sit down! Sit down!”