It's
only wicked people who see ghosts."

"Sure, then, I'm thinking it'll be long till you see one, Miss Kit. But
mind now; we must put her a little away from the wind to make Knockowen.
Sit fast, and don't mind a wave or two."

Now began the dangerous part of our voyage. The moment we put her head
in for Knockowen, the waves began to break heavily over the stern,
sometimes almost knocking the tiller from my hand, sometimes compelling
us to run back into the wind to save being swamped.

She did not talk any more, but sat very quiet, watching each wave as it
came, and looking up now and again at my face, as if to read our chances
there. You may be sure I looked steady enough, so as not to give her a
moment's more uneasiness than she need. But, for all that, I was
concerned to see how much water we shipped, and how much less easily the
boat travelled in consequence.

Quit the helm I durst not. Yet how could I ask her to perform so menial
a task as to bail the boat? But it soon went past the point of standing
on ceremony.

"Begging your pardon, Miss Kit," said I, "there's a can below the seat
you're on. If you could use it a bit to get quit of some of the water,
it would help us."

She was down on her knees on the floor of the boat at once, bailing
hard.

"Are we in danger of sinking?" said she, looking up.

"No, surely; but we're better without water in the boat."

Whereat she worked till her arm ached, and yet made little enough
impression on the water, which, with every roll we took, swung ankle
deep from side to side, and grew every minute.

We wanted a mile of Knockowen still, and I was beginning to think there
would be nothing for it but to put out again before the wind, and run
the risk of meeting the heavy sea in the open, when the wind suddenly
shifted a point, and came up behind us once more. It was a lucky shift
for us, for my little mistress was worn-out with her labour, and a few
more broadsides might have swamped us.

As it was, we could now run straight for home, and a few minutes would
see us alongside the little pier of Knockowen.

I helped her back to her seat beside me, and drew the tarpaulin around
her.

Her face, which had been anxious enough for a while, cleared as suddenly
as the wind had shifted.

"I declare, Barry, I was afraid just now."

"So you might be; and no shame to you for it," said I.

"Are you ever afraid?" said she.

"Ay, I was at Kilgorman that night."