e back. As soon as possible I shoved it back far enough for
my body to pass through the aperture.

The rain beat down upon my face as I worked my way out of the cabin in
my oilskins; I left my hat behind. The Wavecrest was pitching and
yawing pretty badly now and before I cast a single glance around I was
sure that she was already going through the inlet.

Yes! there was the beacon at the extreme point of Bolderhead Neck--it
was just abreast of me as I stood at last upon the sloop's unsteady
deck. I leaped down into the cockpit and quickly lowered the
centerboard. Almost at once the Wavecrest began to ride more evenly. I
could see little but the beacon, the night was so black; but I ran to
the tiller and found that the sloop was under good steerage way and
answered her helm nicely.

Like all sloops, the Wavecrest was very broad of beam for her depth of
keel, and the standing-room, or cockpit, was roomy. She was well rigged,
too, having a staysail and gafftopsail. Really, to sail her properly
there should have been a crew of two aboard; but under the present
circumstances I felt that one person aboard the Wavecrest was one too
many! With a rising gale behind her the craft was being driven to sea at
express speed, and it was utterly impossible to retard her course.

For an hour I sat there in the driving rain, hatless and shivering,
hanging to the tiller and letting the sloop drive. Letting her drive!
why, there wasn't a thing I could do to change her course. She was
rushing on through the foaming seas like a projectile shot from some
huge gun, and every moment the howling wind seemed to increase!

The beacon on the Neck was behind me now. There was nothing ahead of the
sloop's fixed bowsprit. We were driving into a curtain of blackness that
had been let down from the sky to the sea. It is seldom that there is
not some little light playing over the surface of the water. This night
a palpable cloud had settled upon the face of the waters and I could not
even see the foam on the crests of the waves, save where they ran past
the sloop's freeboard.

I had left the broken slide open, however, and the rain was beating down
into the cabin. This began to worry me and finally I lashed the
tiller--fastening it in the bights of two ropes prepared for that
purpose, and crept back into the cabin again. It was little use to
remain outside, save that if the sloop was flung upon a rock, I might
have a little better chance to escape