e open, and then make a long row
back outside the Sprit, and clear of the Fiddle Bank.

They decided on the latter, and somewhat gloomily rested on their oars,
and watched the backward sweep of the boat on the tide seaward.

The square tower of Templeton had become a mere speck on the coast-line,
before they felt the tide under them relax, and knew they were out of
the Race.

Then they manned their oars, and began their long pull home.
Fortunately the water still remained quiet, and the breeze did not
freshen. But after about a mile had been made, and the Sprit Rock
seemed only midway between them and the shore, a peril still more
serious overtook them. The sky became overcast, and a sea mist,
springing from nowhere, came down on the breeze, blotting out first the
horizon, then the rock, and finally the coast, and leaving them
virtually blindfolded in mid-ocean.

"We may as well anchor, and wait till it clears," said Cresswell.

"I think we might go on slowly," said Freckleton. "If we keep the
breeze on our left, and Dick looks sharp out in front, we are bound to
come either on the Sprit or the shore. Try it for a bit."

So they tried; rowing gingerly, and steering by the breeze on their
cheeks, while Dick, ahead, strained his eyes into the soaking mist.

They may have made another mile, and still the mist wrapped them round.
They had no idea where, they were. They might be close to the Rock, or
they might have drifted down the coast, or they might be coming on to
the Race again.

Still, anything seemed better than lying idle, and they paddled steadily
on, hoping against hope for a single glimpse of daylight through the
veil.

Suddenly Dick held his hand above his head, and shouted--

"Easy! Hold hard!"

And they could just see a dark object ahead on the water.

It couldn't be the rock, for it was too small; and they could hardly
imagine it to be part of the pier, or a boat on the beach.

They shouted; and, in a moment, an answer came, "Ahoy, there!" and they
knew they had come upon a fishing-boat at anchor.

"It's one of the fleet, waiting to get in. We'd better go alongside,
and wait with them," said Freckleton.

So Dick shouted to say they were coming, and they rowed carefully
alongside.

The first sight that met Dick's astonished eyes, as he reached across to
seize the gunwale of the friendly boat, was Tom White, sitting
comfortably smoking in the stern.

"Good day, young gentlemen," sai