"Let her drive; we shall go it well enough. It blows like all-possessed: but what's the use of having a life boat, if you can't go out in her when it blows?"
"Stand by the fore halliards, then," cried Paul. "The sail is close-reefed, just as we used it yesterday."
The foresail was hoisted, and slammed with tremendous fury in the fresh gale. The boys then grasped the cable, and it required the full effort of their united strength to weigh the anchor; but the task was accomplished at last, and Paul leaped to his place at the helm. Laying her course parallel with the shore of the island, the Fawn dashed over the furious waves, within ten rods' distance from the breakers on the beach. In a few moments she passed beyond the reach of this peril, and rushed out among the billows of the open bay.
It was a fearful night even for strong men to venture upon the stormy sea; it was doubly perilous for these two boys; yet they had no choice, for to avoid a greater danger they had chosen the less. But the Fawn behaved in a very gallant manner, and her noble bearing promised to achieve all that could be done for the safety of the young fishermen. Notwithstanding the violence of the gale, she rested buoyantly on the top of the waves, and did not seem to labor in her course.
"Do you know where you are, Paul?" asked his brother, after they had sat in silence for half an hour.
"Certainly I do; there is South Point light dead ahead."
"Yes; but there is any quantity of rocks between us and the light."
"I know that; but I know where they are just as well as I know where the kitchen is, when I get into the house. Don't talk to me now, John; go below and turn in, if you like."
"Don't you want me?"