"Keep her north-east."
"North-east, sir."
Leopold turned at that moment, and discovered a bundle of shawls and water-proofs emerging from the companion-way.
"Leopold Bennington! I'm glad to see you!" exclaimed the bundle, in a voice which the young pilot promptly identified as that of Miss Rosabel Hamilton.
"Thank you, Miss Hamilton. I'm happy to see you again," stammered Leopold, rushing up to the bundle, in which he could hardly make out the beautiful face and form of Rosabel.
"You have come to get us out of an awful bad scrape. We have no fire in the cabin, and are wet through, and nearly frozen. I'm so glad we met you!"
"I'm glad to meet you too," said Leopold. "I'm sure I didn't expect to see you out in this fog. But I'm the pilot of this yacht now and if you will excuse me, I will go forward, and attend to my duty."
"Certainly. Don't let me keep you," answered Rosabel, in those sweet, silvery tones which made Leopold's heart jump. "I shall be so glad when we can see a good, warm fire!"
The young pilot did not like to leave her; but he felt the responsibility of the position he had assumed, and he hastened forward. The Orion was moving along through the water at the rate of about four knots an hour. Leopold walked out on the bowsprit as far as the jibstay, and there seated himself. Rosabel, apparently deeply interested in his movements, followed him as far as the forecastle.
"What are you going to do out there, Leopold?" she asked.