So far as the wind was concerned, my calculation was correct. It did shake the mainsail, and rattle the sheet-blocks, and I was aroused from my slumbers. I raised myself upon my bed, to assure myself that the Florina was still near me. That was the very thing, however, of which I could not assure myself. In fact she was not near me. I sprang to my feet, and felt that I had made a blunder, but such a one as Mr. Whippleton would not charge upon me. The Marian was adrift, and the breeze was carrying her farther up the lagoon, where she might get aground. My first care was to secure her from any such accident, which would indeed have been a catastrophe to me. All I had to do was to put the helm down, and bring the yacht up into the wind, which came only in light puffs. It was from the westward, and I had just slant enough to enable me to lay a course towards the lake.
As soon as I got her head to the breeze, I hoisted the jib. Seating myself at the helm, I studied the course, and kept a sharp lookout ahead for the Florina. I was satisfied that the first breath of wind had waked me, and that the other yacht could not be far from me. In a few moments I was assured of the correctness of my calculation, for I discovered the Florina behind a point of land. She had come thus far without hoisting her jib, and had not been able to lay very close to the wind. Mr. Whippleton knew the navigation of the lagoon, and had run his yacht where I should not have dared to go. Probably he had not hoisted his jib before, lest the noise of it should wake me; but I saw it go up almost as soon as I caught sight of her.
I do not like to accuse other people of making blunders, but I was sure that Mr. Whippleton had made one in not standing directly out of the lagoon; but doubtless he expected to have his own time for the operation. As it was, I had the weather-gage of him. He had run over to leeward so far, with a projecting point of land between him and the mouth of the creek, that I should be off the headland before he could reach it.
I rubbed my hands with delight when I realized the situation, and saw that I could not help cutting him out. The neglect on his part to hoist the jib had lost him the battle, while my jib had won it for me. The slant of the wind would enable me to go clear of the point, off which I had first anchored the Marian, while Mr. Whippleton would be obliged to make two tacks in order to weather it. But he had the wind freer than I, for he had evidently run off to leeward for the sole purpose of setting his jib without disturbing me.
As I was approaching the point of land, the Florina came within hailing distance of me.
"Marian, ahoy! Where are you going, Phil?" shouted Mr. Whippleton, wrathfully.
"After you."
"Another blunder, you blockhead! Come about, and take me on board."
I was willing to comply with this request, for it seemed reasonable to me. Both boats were heaved to, and Mr. Whippleton put off in one of the tenders.