"I am not a pilot to Belfast," replied Leopold; "but you must keep her west-half-north for Owl's Head, nine miles from here. There are islands and ledges all around you."
"We have had enough of this sort of thing," interposed Mr. Hamilton, evidently disgusted with his experience. "We have been feeling our way in this fog for twenty-four hours. I would give a thousand dollars to be in Belfast at this moment."
"I don't believe the best pilot on the coast would agree to take this yacht up to Belfast in this fog for twice that sum," added Leopold. "One of the Bangor steamers, that goes over the route every day, got aground the other night."
"I never was on this coast before, Mr. Hamilton, as I told you before we sailed from New York," said Captain Bounce, apologetically; "but if I had been here all my life, I couldn't find my way in a sailing vessel in such a fog as this."
"O, I don't blame you Captain Bounce," added Mr. Hamilton, who was the owner of the yacht.
"I have kept you off the rocks so far; and that was the best I could do."
"You have done all that anybody could do, Captain Bounce, and I have no fault to find with you. But the ladies are very uncomfortable; they are wet, and everything in the cabin is wet with the moisture of this fog. We are very anxious to get to some good hotel, where we can remain till the fog has blown away," continued Mr. Hamilton.
"You can go into Rockhaven, sir," suggested Leopold.
The Hon. Mr. Hamilton smiled gloomily, and shrugged his shoulders, for he knew how limited were the accommodations in the old Cliff House.
"Your hotel would not hold us, Leopold," said Mr. Hamilton. "Our party consists of fifteen persons. We must get into Rockland, some how or other."