There was no help for it. Knowing that Bruin would attempt to jump overboard from the whaler and swim after the Olivette, Stratton and Flemming lashed the dog's paws together and tied a bandage over his eyes. Then, in this helpless condition Bruin was passed over the side and placed in the stern-sheets of the Totland Sea Scouts' boat.
"Good-bye and good luck!" shouted Scoutmaster Mostyn, as the two craft drew off from one another. "We'll take care of your mascot, and see him safely ashore at Milford."
Amidst an exchange of farewells the whaler rehoisted her canvas, and, close hauled on the port tack, headed for the Hampshire shore, while the Olivette, increasing speed to eight knots, resumed her interrupted voyage.
CHAPTER IX
Broken Down in Mid-Channel
Peter Stratton carried out his instructions to the letter. Upon rounding the Needles he steered in the direction of St. Catherine's, keeping a mile and a half from shore, in order to give a wide berth to the dangerous Atherfield Ledges, ridges of sharp rock that have sealed the fate of many a gallant ship and her crew. It was slow work plugging against a strong west-going tide, but, as Mr. Armitage had remarked, it was better to have a foul tide to begin with and a fair one when the Olivette approached the French coast, than the reverse.
At seven o'clock the Olivette was in a position to "make her departure", and accordingly she was set on the given course for her eighty odd miles' run across the Channel.
"We're a long time losing sight of land," observed Woodleigh, when an hour later the chalk cliffs of St. Catherine's were still visible in the slanting rays of the sun.
"It's the height that tells," rejoined Peter. "We're a good ten miles off. We're running at eight knots only."