"I don't blame you," said Mr. Jackson. "After all's said and done, Newhaven's a rotten hole for a yacht. Too strong a tide and too great a rise and fall to my liking, to say nothing of the coal dust. Tea's going. I'll take charge of the deck, if you like, and you can get a meal."
To this proposal Mr. Armitage gladly agreed, and the Sea Scouts adjourned to the saloon, leaving the Oxford Scoutmaster at the wheel.
Judging by their appetites, the lads had quite shaken off the effects of their partial suffocation. Sitting round the table they looked the picture of health, with their bronzed faces and clear, mirth-loving eyes.
"'And there arose a mighty famine in the land '," quoted Mr. Armitage. "That's what'll happen to us by the way the bread and butter is disappearing."
"We can replenish our grub-locker at the first port we make, sir," said Flemming.
"Unless it's after closing-time," added Hepburn.
"Fortunately the Early Closing Act does not apply to vessels leaving and arriving at ports," corrected Mr. Armitage, "so tuck in with a good grace. I remember on one occasion——"
What happened at that particular time never transpired, for a sudden, disconcerting jar shook the yacht from stem to stern.
"By Jove, we're aground!" exclaimed the Scoutmaster, making a hurried exit through the companion-way to the deck. "What is it, Jackson?" he inquired anxiously.
"Marine road-hogging," was the reply. "Couldn't help it, Armitage. A porpoise leapt right in front of our bows, and the Rosalie gave it a pretty tidy biff."