ordinary
life dropped off from him. Only it seemed a pity to find the spy, since
finding him would stop their sailing.

"I say, Priscilla," he said. "Don't let us bother about the old spy.
Let's go on sailing."

"Just hunker down a bit," said Priscilla, "and look under the foot of
the sail. I can't see to leeward. Is there anything like a tent on that
island?"

Frank curled himself into a cramped and difficult attitude. He peered
under the sail and made his report.

"There's nothing there," he said, "except three bullocks. But I can only
see two sides of the island."

"We'll open the north side in a minute," said Priscilla. "He can't be at
the west end of it, for it is all bluff and boulders. If he isn't on the
north shore he's not there at all.

Frank twisted himself again into the bottom of the boat, and peeped
under the sail. The north shore of Illaunglos held no tent.

"Good," said Priscilla. "Well stand on The next island is Inishark.
He may be there. There's a well on it, and he'd naturally want to camp
somewhere within reach of water."

Frank, still curled up beside the centreboard case, gazed under the sail
at Inishark. The boat, swaying and dipping in a still freshening breeze,
sped on.

"Is there any large white stone on the ridge of the island?" he asked.

"No," said Priscilla. "There isn't a white stone of any size in the
whole bay. It's most likely a sheep."

"It's not a sheep. Nobody ever saw a sheep with a back that went up into
a point. I believe it's the top of a tent. Steer for it, Priscilla."

Frank was aglow with excitement. The sailing intoxicated him. The sight
of the triangular apex of the tent put himself beside himself.

"Turn the boat, Priscilla. Go down to the island."

Priscilla was cooler.

"We'll hold on a minute," she said, "and make sure. There's no use
running all that way down to leeward until we're certain. We'd only have
to beat up again."

"It is a tent," said Frank. "I can see now. There are two tents."

Priscilla caught his excitement She knelt on the floor boards, crooked
her elbow over the tiller, leaned over the side of the boat and stared
under the sail at the island.

"That's him," she said. "Now, Cousin Frank, we'll have to jibe again to
get down there. Do you think you can be a bit nippier in getting over
the centreboard than you were last time. It's blowing harder, and it
won't do to upset. You very nearly had us over before."

Frank was too excite