the difficulty that he could
hardly expect to find a shackle on the cable in the dark. Running
forward with the Siwash, he pulled a chain stopper out, and then
shipping the windlass levers found with vast relief that it would work.
It would make a horribly distinct clanking, he knew, but that could not
be helped, and the next thing was to discover if the end of the chain
was made fast below, for it is very seldom that a skipper finds it
necessary to pay all his cable out.

Dropping into the darkness of the locker beneath the forecastle, he was
more fortunate than he could reasonably have expected to be, for as he
crawled over the rusty links he felt a shackle. It appeared to be of
the usual harp-pattern with a cottered pin, and he called out sharply
to the Siwash, who presently flung him an iron bar and a big spike.
Then he struck one of the two or three sulphur matches he had carefully
treasured, and when the sputtering blue flame went out set to work to
back the pin out in the dark. He smashed his knuckles and badly
bruised his hands, but he succeeded, and knew that he had shortened the
chain by two-thirds now.

Then he scrambled up on deck again and hurried aft, for the vessel's
kedge had been laid out astern to prevent her swinging. There was a
heavy hemp warp attached to it, and it cost them some time to heave
most of it over, after which they proceeded to get the mainsail on to
her. It was covered with a coat, and Wyllard cut himself as he slashed
through the tiers in savage impatience. Then he and the Siwash toiled
at the halliards desperately, for the task of raising the heavy gaff
was almost beyond their powers.

There was no grease on the mast-hoops, the blocks had evidently not
been used for months, and several times they desisted a moment or two,
gasping, breathless, and utterly exhausted. Still, foot by foot they
got the black canvas up, and then, leaving the peak hanging, ran
forward to the boom-foresail, which was smaller and lighter. They set
that, cast two jibs and the staysail loose, and let them lie, and
Wyllard sat down feeling that the thing they had done would, if
attempted in cold blood, have appeared almost impossible.

It was done, however, and now he must wait until the boat appeared.
There was no sign of her, and as he gazed up the inlet, seeing only the
dim glimmer of the water and the sliding mist, the suspense became
almost intolerable. Minute slipped by after minute, and stil