"The glass be a-fallin', sure, missy," said the old fellow cheerily, "but wi' the wind backin' round to the norrard it on'y means a drop o' wet."
"You think we will make the rock in good time?"
"We'm do our best, Miss Enid."
She sat up suddenly.
"Don't you dare tell me, Ben Pollard, that after all our preparations we may have to turn back or run for inglorious shelter into Lamorna."
Her mock indignation induced a massive grin. "A mahogany table breaking into mirth," was Enid's private description of Ben's face when he smiled.
"'Ee knaw the coast as well as most," he said. "Further go, stronger blow, 'ee knaw."
"And not so slow, eh, Ben? Really, you and the Daisy look more tubby every time I see you."
Thus disparaged, Pollard defended himself and his craft.
"Me an' Daisy'll sail to Gulf Light quicker'n any other two tubs in Penzance, missy. Her be a long run at this time o' year, but you'm get there all right, I 'xpect. Wi' a norrard breeze we'm be safe enough. If the wind makes 'ee c'n zee et comin', 'ee knaw."