For the rest of the day the Sea Scouts "carried on" as if the guardship was not sheltering an invalid. This was at the express wish of Mr. Collinson. But the lads took care not to disturb the invalid. For the most part they were away in the dinghy, exploring the creek, indulging in glorious bathes on the sandy beach to the west'ard of the entrance, practising semaphore, and half a dozen other pleasurable tasks so dear to the heart of a Sea Scout.
All too soon came what Patrol Leader Desmond described as "the end of a perfect day".
CHAPTER IV
The Gratitude of Mr. Collinson
On the following morning the curiosity of everyone interested in the mystery of the Ocean Bride was satisfied by Mr. Collinson, who was well enough to relate his adventures.
"There is really very little to tell," he began. "As you heard from my wife, I was on the yacht off Ryde, having arranged to go ashore about nine. Just before seven I noticed that it looked a bit dirty to wind'ard. In my interest in various small jobs I had to do on board, I had quite forgotten to look at the barometer. When at length I did, I saw that it had fallen nearly half an inch since the morning.
"Since the anchorage I was in is a very exposed one, and I was riding to my own anchor instead of picking up a stout mooring, I decided that the best thing to do was to make for Wootton Creek. Portsmouth was dead to wind'ard, Cowes didn't seem an enticing proposition, since it was a foul tide for the next two hours. And every yachtsman who knows the Solent realizes what Cowes Harbour, crowded as it is during the summer, is like in a northerly gale.
"So I hoisted sail, broke out the anchor, and got under way not a moment too soon. It was then about half-past eight, and the wind had piped up considerably.
"Of course my luck was out. When off Binstead the dinghy's painter parted. I didn't realize my loss until I saw the little boat drifting shoreward a good quarter of a mile astern."