h, and their gallant boat, nimbly propelled by Gayford and the
boat-hook, threaded its way through the rocks and made for the boundless
ocean.

Chapter III. Consternation.

The "Eliza"--that was the name of the coastguard's boat on which our
heroes had embarked--was a middling-sized sea-going rowing boat, which,
if it was just big enough by a little judicious packing to hold the
seven voyagers, could certainly not have accommodated more.

While Gayford, with the dexterity of an experienced bargee, shoved the
boat along out of the creek, Bowler took upon himself the care of
trimming the "ship," and stowing away all the baggage.

"As soon as we get out," said he, "we'd better lie down on the floor, in
case the coastguards see us."

"Not much chance of that," replied Gayford. "They never get up till
eight, and by that time we shall be halfway across."

"Suppose they spot us and give chase?" said Wallas. "What a row we
shall get into!"

"They've not got a boat, I tell you, and I don't believe there's one
they can get either," said Bowler.

"But they're sure to be on the look-out for us when we get back to-
night."

"Let them. It'll be dark at six, and we can land in Rocket Bay, you
know, and dodge them that way."

Bowler was evidently so well up in the arrangements, and had made such a
careful study of all the pros and cons of the venture, that every one
felt satisfied, and even the somewhat doubtful Wallas desisted from
throwing more cold water on the expedition.

It was a raw morning with a little bit of a fog, and a cool breeze right
off the land. This last point, however, gave great satisfaction to the
leaders of the party. Once out in the open they would be able to hoist
sail, and without the exertion of rowing make a straight track for the
Long Stork--much indeed as would be the case when, with a southerly wind
at their backs, they would before long plough the ocean from Sinnamary
to New Swishford.

The fog also was decidedly in their favour, for it would help to screen
them from the observation of any wakeful and inquisitive coastguard. In
fact, the unusual combination of wind and fog seemed like a special sign
of good omen to their adventure.

"Hope it's not wough outside," said Braintree, as the boat, now nearly
out of the creek, began to dance a little at the prospect of meeting the
open sea.

"Can't be rough with the wind off the land, you duffer," said Crashford.

"Can't it, though