was a big cheer; but somehow there was a faltering note somewhere;
and when Father Letheby handed Bittra ashore and the decks were cleared,
and the crew summoned to make her ready to clear off, the men held back,
cowed and afraid.

"You miserable cowards," said Father Letheby; "afraid of every little
accident! I'll not let one of you now aboard; I'll get a crew of men
from Moydore!"

This stung them to the quick; and when a few Moydore boys stood forward
and volunteered, they were rudely flung aside by the four stalwart
fishermen, and we went near having a good free fight to crown the
morning's proceedings. Yet it was easy to see that their hearts were
heavy with superstition and fear; and it was just at this crisis that
Campion stepped forward and offered himself as captain and helmsman.
There was a genuine ringing cheer when he walked down her deck; for
every one knew what a splendid seaman he was, and it is exhilarating to
see a strong man, self-reliant and confident, assume an authority and
premiership by natural right, where weaklings are timid and irresolute.
The clouds moved off from Father Letheby's face only to gather more
deeply upon poor Bittra's. Campion saw it and came over to where she
stood, leaning on Ormsby's arm.

"I would be miserable up at that old castle, mignonne," he said fondly,
"when you and Ormsby depart. It is only a few hours at sea, and it will
give nerve to these poor fellows."

"Father! father!" was all that she could say through her tears. What
dreadful forebodings filled that gentle heart!

"Tell her it's all right, Ormsby!" Campion said, turning away from the
tearful face. "You know all about the sea, and that there's no danger.
What a noble craft she is! Good by, little woman! You have no time to
lose if you want to catch the mail. Good by, Ormsby! Take care of her!"

He choked down his emotion as he kissed his child, and then sprang on
deck.

"All right, lads! Ease off her head first! There, cast away aft!"

And the pretty craft was caught up by the flowing tide; and with the
strong hand at the helm, floated calmly down the deep creek until she
reached a wider space, where the wind could catch her. Then they raised
a white sail, half-mast high, and she leaned over to the pressure until
she shot out amongst the breakers, and her mainsail and topsail shook
out to the breeze, and she cut the calm sea like a plough in the furrow,
and the waters curled and whitened and closed in