f what I
had gone through. But soon I heard another voice speaking to me. It
was the voice of my sister Jessie.

"Halcro! Halcro!" it murmured.

"Where am I?" I asked; for I could not understand how I came to be
lying in the bottom of a little sailing boat with my limbs all
aching and trembling.

And Jessie and Thora were at my side--Jessie steering, and Thora
holding the rope of the little lug sail. How did it all come about?

Then Jessie, bidding me lie still, told me in a few words how she
and Thora had watched the race between the Curlew and the St.
Magnus, standing on the high ground of the Ness point. They had
seen the accident, and had immediately put out together in a little
boat that was lying on the beach. They had rescued me from the
upturned Curlew, where I lay in a faint, and were now making for
the Lydia.

"Have they saved father?" I asked.

But the girls did not know. They had not seen anyone picked up by
the St. Magnus.

"Where is Carver's boat now?" I inquired; and feeling my strength
return to me somewhat, I raised myself up and sat on the seat at
the stern beside my sister, while Thora went forward to the mast to
be in readiness to lower the sail.

We were now, as I could see, only a few fathoms distant from the
Lydia, which was lying athwart the stream, thus breaking the force
of the current, and making it possible for us to draw up alongside.
The St. Magnus was already there, having, as I afterwards found,
given up the search for the unfortunate crew of the Curlew. Carver
Kinlay was aboard on the quarterdeck engaged in an altercation with
the skipper, who stood at the gangway.

"Heave us a rope, captain!" cried out Jessie; and Thora caught the
line that was thrown down, while I helped her to draw our boat to
the ship's side.

My clothes were still very wet in spite of the warm sun; but, with
some difficulty, I got up the barque's side and joined Captain
Gordon at the gangway.

"Have any of our men been saved?" I asked. "My father, is he--?"

But I saw by the skipper's downcast face that the worst had
happened. I turned to Kinlay:

"Did you not pick up any of them?" I inquired.

"It was no use," said he sullenly. "We could save none of them."

"You might very well have done so if you'd been more prompt," said
Captain Gordon. "I saw two of the poor men above water when you
turned to come back."

"Why did ye not send out a boat yerself, then?" said Kinlay.

"Because I have none