A heavy strain was taken on both ropes leading ashore to assist the vessel to lift, while all hands not employed at the winch and the watch-tackle hung over the port side, clinging to the shrouds so that their weight would help in levering the yacht on an even keel.
It was a spiritless job hanging on and waiting for the tide to rise. Buffeted by the wind and driving rain, the Sea Scouts stuck it gamely, until the period of inaction was broken by at quite unexpected turn of events.
The two men on the pier-head-who had been keeping their telescopes fixed seaward were now in a state of activity, shouting and gesticulating to an approaching vessel, which, however, was invisible from the sloping deck of the Rosalie.
A few minutes later, pitching and rolling heavily, a large motor-boat staggered in between the pier-heads, her deck glistening with water that came inboard over her bows.
"She's the Olivette!" exclaimed Stratton.
"Looks uncommonly like her," agreed Mr. Armitage. "But she's one of a class. May be one of the same type."
In the shelter of the harbour, although the "gush" was fairly heavy, the heavy motor-boat ceased to pitch. Out of the cockpit climbed a man wearing a mackintosh coat and a "deerstalker's cap", the latter secured by a scarf tied under the chin.
"By Jove, you're right, Peter!" declared the Scoutmaster. "It is the Olivette. That's Mr. Murgatroyd. Wonder what he's doing here?"
Evidently Mr. Murgatroyd was expecting to find his former crew at Littlehampton, although he had never seen the Rosalie, and one of the first craft that caught his eye was the listing yacht with the Sea Scouts at "Action Stations".
"Give her a cheer, lads," called out Mr. Armitage.