uld have been better had we
remained at Shargle, or returned to Parkhurst by land.

We were in for it now.

The one thing which gave us confidence was Hall's coolness, now that the
danger was unmistakable. He neither allowed himself to get flurried nor
alarmed, but sat with closed lips watching the sail--one hand on the
tiller and the other grasping the sheet, ready to let it go at a
moment's notice.

As for us, we wished we could do anything more active than sit still and
trim the boat. But even that was some use, and so we remained, watching
anxiously the clouds as they rolled down the sides of the hills and half
obscured Shargle Head from our view.

Presently, however, Hall said--

"Get the oars out, will you? we haven't made any way for an hour."

No way for an hour! Had we then been all that time plunging through the
waves for nothing? With what grim earnestness we set to work to row
through this unyielding current!

But to no effect--or scarcely any. The little white cottage on Shargle,
which we looked round at so anxiously from time to time, to ascertain
what progress had been made, remained always in the same position, and
after twenty minutes' desperate pulling it seemed as if the total
distance gained had been scarcely half a dozen yards.

It was disheartening work, still more so as the sea was rising every
minute, and the rain had already begun to fall.

"We're in for a gale," said Hall, as a wave broke over the side,
drenching Hutton and me, and half-filling the bottom of the boat with
water. "Look sharp, Charlie, and bale out that before the next comes."

Charlie set to work with a will, and for a time we rowed steadily on,
without saying a word.

"What's the time?" I asked presently of Hall, as I saw him take out his
watch.

"Five," said he.

It was an hour after the time we had expected to be back at Parkhurst,
and we were not yet clear of Shargle. The same thought evidently
crossed the minds of the other three, for they all glanced in the
direction of Raven Cliff, now scarcely visible through the heavy rain.

"I wish we were safe home," muttered Hutton, the most dispirited of our
crew. "What fools we were to come!"

We said nothing, but pulled away doggedly at the oars.

Now it really seemed as if we were making some progress out of that
wretched current, for the white cottage on the cliff appeared farther
astern than it had done since we began to row, and we were beginning t