"How long before we get there," he shouted amid the tumult.
"We ought to reach the Point in a little while," said Judy, "but—but I am not quite sure where we are, Tommy. I have always kept within sight of land before—"
There was no land to be seen now. The moon was hidden by the clouds, and on each side of them black water stretched out to meet black sky, broken only by leaping lengths of white foam.
But they were not fated to reach the Point that night, for the wind changed, and in spite of all efforts to keep on their way, the little boat was blown farther and farther out into the great, wide waters of the bay.
"Is there any danger?" questioned Tommy as the foam boiled up on each side of the boat, drenching both himself and Judy, whose face, white as a pearl, showed through the gloom.
But Judy did not answer at once. She waited until she could make herself heard in a lull of the wind, and then she admitted, "We shall have to stay out all night, I am afraid."
"All night," gasped Tommy. "Oh, Judy, ain't it awful."
"No," said Judy, calmly, "not if we are not silly and afraid."
"Oh, I'm not afraid," swaggered Tommy, "only I wish we hadn't come," he ended, weakly, as the boat swooped down into the trough of a wave, and then rose high in the air.
"You should have told me it wasn't safe," he complained presently, "you knew it was going to storm, didn't you?"