“It’s a long way to row,” added Brandon tentatively.
“Down helm a bit,” ordered Mr. Grant. “We’ll see if they are bound there. If so, we’ll offer them a tow.”
Rapidly the Kestrel overhauled the boat. The crew of the latter continued to pull steadily.
“Where are you bound?” hailed the Patrol Leader, as the ketch drew near.
“Chichester.”
“Want a tow?”
“Yes, rather.”
The oarsmen boated their oars, the bowman coiling up the painter ready to make a cast.
Brandon was too experienced to attempt to pick up the boat with the Kestrel going at such a speed. Making a wide sweep, he brought the ketch head to wind within an oar’s length of the frail double-sculler.
“Hadn’t we better get them all on board, sir?” enquired the Patrol Leader. “The skiff will tow lighter and easier if we do.”