The command was a thunderstroke. It proved that the
danger was immediate and intense. And the thought of all the beautiful food
and drink on board, and all the soft cushions and the electric hair-curlers
and the hot-water supply and the ice gave no consolation whatever. The
idea of the futility and wickedness of luxury desolated the guests and made
them austere, and yet even in that moment they speculated upon what goods
they might take with them.

And why the dinghy, though it was a dinghy of large size? Why not the
launch?

After the dinghy had been dropped into the sea an old sail was carefully
spread amidships over her bottom and she was lugged, by her painter,
towards the bow of the yacht where, with much grating of windlasses and of
temperaments and voices, an anchor was very gently lowered into her and
rested on the old sail. The anchor was so immense that it sank the dinghy
up to Her gunwale, and then she was rowed away to a considerable distance,
a chain grinding after her, and in due time the anchor was pitched with a
great splash into the water. The sound of orders and of replies vibrated
romantically over the surface of the water. Then a windlass was connected
with the engine, and the passengers comprehended that the intention was to
drag the yacht off the sand by main force. The chain clacked and strained
horribly. The shouting multiplied, as though the vessel had been a great
beast that could be bullied into obedience. The muscles of all passengers
were drawn taut in sympathy with the chain, and at length there was a lurch
and the chain gradually slackened.

"She's off!" breathed the captain. "We've saved a good half-hour."

"She'd have floated off by herself," said Mr. Gilman grandly.

"Yes, sir," said the captain. "But if it had happened to be the ebb, sir--"
He left it at that and began on a new series of orders, embracing the
dinghy, the engines, the anchor and another anchor.

And all the passengers resumed their courage and their ancient notions
about the excellence of luxury, and came to the conclusion that navigation
was a very simple affair, and in less than five minutes were sincerely
convinced that they had never known fear.

Later, the impressive sight was witnessed of Madame Piriac, on her
shoulders such a cloak as certainly had never been seen on a yacht before,
bearing Mr. Gilman's valuable violin like a jewel casket. She had found it
below and brought it up on deck.

The _Ariadne_,