"We must move her," he shouted. "If she's caught on a falling tide on the ledge, she'll break her back."
"Tide's ebbing already, sir," exclaimed the bos'n. "Send every man aboard and start the motor. 'Tis a last chance."
With the utmost haste we jumped into the boats and boarded the "Fortuna," and, leaving one man as boat-keeper, every available member of the crew, gathered on the fo'c'sle, all jumping in time to help to free the yacht from the tenacious ledge.
The motor was set running, at full speed, and the bos'n alone remained aft at the wheel.
"Altogether; shake her up!" was the cry, and we all jumped with renewed energy. There was a dull grating sound, and the "Fortuna," slipping off the rock, glided into deep water and headed with increasing speed towards the open sea.
In obedience to an order the men rushed aft, for the propeller was almost out of the water, while Mr. Wilkins had the greatest difficulty in keeping the yacht on her course; nor did she bring up till she had passed without the natural breakwaters and over the patch of deep water.
As she passed the whaler and the gig, the boat-keeper had dexterously thrown a line on board, and both boats were safely in tow of the yacht.
A sounding gave five fathoms, and the anchors were let go, and the "Fortuna" was safely moored well clear of the dangerous reef.
"There's no time to be lost, sir," said the bos'n. "We are in an exposed berth, and a gale might spring up at an hour's notice."
"That's true," replied my father. "And though the glass is steady, I prefer to take no risks. It's a pity, though, that we are so far from shore."