The "Rosalie"
For some moments Mr. Armitage hardly knew what to say. When his first feelings of astonishment subsided, he felt inclined to reprimand Woodleigh for disobeying orders. Had the lad made a blunder the consequences might have been serious—but he hadn't.
"After all," thought the Scoutmaster, "he did very well. Sort of Nelson touch about that lad. If he acted with deliberate judgment, and not through a sheer slice of luck, he's cut out for navigating duties. 'Tany rate, I've had a good sound sleep, but I wouldn't have slumbered so quietly had I known."
He went on deck. The Olivette was riding to a single anchor in a land-locked estuary, within a cable's length of Brightlingsea Hard. He could hardly realize the fact.
"We thought we'd wait till the ebb makes before we run out a kedge, sir," reported the Patrol-leader; "then she'll ride to her main anchor and cable."
"Quite right," agreed Mr. Armitage. "What's the time? Eight o'clock. Any breakfast going?"
There was. From the galley came the first appetizing smell of grilling bacon. Warkworth, who revelled in the work in the galley, was preparing a substantial meal, supplemented by coffee.
On his way aft Mr. Armitage touched Woodleigh on the shoulder.
"I've taught you as much as I know myself at this game, Woodleigh," he declared. "You don't happen to be acquainted with this part, I suppose?"
"No, sir," replied the youngster. "It's those imaginary cruises we used to work out on the chart that helped me."