"There is no need of that," replied Fanny, cheerfully. "I made a little mistake before, but I understand all about it now."
"What was the mistake, Fan?"
"I didn't turn her the right way," replied the confident skipper, who had been studying up the cause of the mishap and had reasoned out the correct solution. "I shall know just how to do it next time, Kate, and you needn't be the least grain scared. See here," said she, putting the helm down, and bringing the boat round till her head was thrown up into the wind.
"Don't, Fanny!"
"That's the way it is done," continued Fanny, proudly. "Don't you see how easily she does it? There isn't a bit of danger now;" and she brought the boat round to her course again.
Kate was terrified at the very mention of turning the boat; but when she saw that the feat was accomplished without upsetting or even taking in any more water, her confidence was in a great measure restored. Fanny's exhibition of her skill produced the intended effect upon her companion, and the feminine skipper's easy and self-reliant way confirmed the impression. Fanny had learned more about the management of a boat in that brief half hour than she had ever known before, for the consciousness that her own life and that of her passenger depended upon her skill, sharpened her perceptions and quickened her judgment to such an extent that those moments of thrilling experience became equivalent to months of plodding study when the mind is comparatively dull and heavy.
Mr. Long, the constable, evidently did not hurry himself in the investigation of Fanny's case; for when he had satisfied himself that the wicked girl had deceived him, and had reached the Woodville pier, having first visited the school, as the shrewd girl had intended he should, the boat was not in sight; or, at least, nothing could be seen of her but the white sails, which he could not identify, and the fugitives were in no present danger on account of his movements. He did not know whether the Greyhound had gone up or down the river; and he had no boat in which to follow her.
Fanny felt that she had won a victory, for she did not realize that success in a wicked cause is failure and defeat. She congratulated herself on the feat she had accomplished, and she was vain enough to boast to her associate of what she had done; of her skill in managing the boat, and her shrewdness in planning the enterprise; and it is quite certain that if she had been less resolute and courageous, the expedition would have ended in failure almost at the beginning.
"But you haven't told me what you are going to do yet," said Kate, when she had sponged out the bottom of the well, dried the seats in the standing-room, and taken her place by the side of Fanny.
"I will tell you now," replied Fanny. "What do you suppose your father will do to you when he finds out that you played truant, and went on the river with me?" she added, apparently, but not really, avoiding the subject.