"Now comes the pull," said Donald, as the Maud rounded the buoy. "Stand by your sheets! Now brace her up! Give her the whole of the board, Dick."
Donald put the helm down; the jib and mainsail were trimmed as flat as it was judicious to have them; and the Maud was close-hauled, standing up to the northward. The skipper was careful not to cramp her by laying too close to the wind. He was an experienced boatman, and he governed himself more by the feeling of the craft under him than by his sight. He could shut his eyes, and tell by the pressure of the tiller in his hand whether she was cramped, or was going along through the water.
"Did you get the time when the Skylark passed the Head, Mr. Norwood?" asked Donald.
"No; you made things so lively, I hadn't time to look," replied the gentleman. "I should like to know just how many minutes we are ahead of her."
"I think I can tell you, sir," added the skipper, with a smile.
"How many?"
"How many do you think, sir?"
"Five or six."
"Not more than one and a half, Mr. Norwood. Neither yacht has to give the other time, and what we gain belongs to us."
"I should have thought we were at least five minutes ahead of her."