In spite of the strong wind and the heavy sea, Paul kept the boat on her course, though, as the tide was against her, she did not make much headway.
"Can you weather South Point, Paul?" asked Thomas, who had been silent for some time.
"I'm afraid I can't; this old boat makes about as much leeway as headway."
"It is pretty rough out here—isn't it?"
"Rather," replied Paul, indifferently.
"She takes in a good deal of water."
"Mostly spray; you can bale her out, if you have a mind to do so."
Thomas was glad to have something in the shape of occupation, for it required all his power to conceal a certain nervousness, which he would not have had Paul see for all the world. He took the tin kettle, and worked as though the safety of the craft depended entirely upon his efforts.
The wind seemed to increase rather than diminish in force, and the sail was becoming more exciting every moment; but Paul maintained his self-possession, and though he had some doubts about his ability to keep the old craft right side up, he did not permit his companion to know that he had a single misgiving.
"We can't fetch by the Point," said he, when Thomas had done baling.