Skipper Bill o' Burnt Bay got the _First Venture_ under way at dawn of
the next day. It was blowing a stiff breeze. A fine, fresh wind was
romping fair to the northwest, where, far off, Ruddy Cove lay and Mrs.
Skipper William waited.

"I 'low," Skipper Bill mused, as the schooner slipped through the
narrows, "that that there insurance wouldn't o' done much harm
anyhow."

There was an abrupt change of weather. It came without warning; and
there was no hint of apology to the skipper of the _First Venture_.
When the schooner was still to the s'uth'ard of the dangerous Chunks,
but approaching them, she was beating laboriously into a violent and
capricious head wind. Bill o' Burnt Bay, giving heed to Sir
Archibald's injunction, kept her well off the group of barren islands.
They were mere rocks, scattered widely. Some of them showed their
forbidding heads to passing craft; others were submerged, as though
lying in wait. It would be well to sight them, he knew, that he might
better lay his course; but he was bound that no lurking rock should
"pick up" his ship.

"Somehow or other," he thought, "I wisht I _had_ took out that there
insurance."

At dusk it began to snow. What with this thick, blinding cloud driving
past, shrouding the face of the sea, and what with the tumultuous
waves breaking over her, and what with the roaring gale drowning her
lee rail, the _First Venture_ was having a rough time of it. Skipper
Bill, with his hands on the wheel, had the very satisfactory
impression, for which he is not to be blamed, that he was "a man." But
when, at last, the _First Venture_ began to howl for mercy in no
uncertain way, he did not hesitate to waive the wild joy of "driving"
for the satisfaction of keeping his spars in the sockets.

"Better call the hands, Tom!" he shouted to the first hand. "We'll
reef her."

Tom put his head into the forecastle. The fire in the little round
stove was roaring lustily; and the swinging lamp filled the narrow
place with warm light.

"Out with you, lads!" Tom cried. "All hands on deck t' reef the
mains'l!"

Up they tumbled; and up tumbled Archie Armstrong, and up tumbled
Jimmie Grimm, and up tumbled Billy Topsail.

"Blowin' some," thought Archie. "Great sailin' breeze. What's he
reefin' for?"

The great sail was obstinate. Ease the schooner as Skipper Bill would,
it was still hard for his crew of two men, three lads and a cook to
grasp and confine the canvas. Meantime, the schoo