nt towards the island. Two small patches of
white were to be seen near the shore.

"Their tents," yelled Priscilla. "We have them now if we don't sink.
Luff her up, Cousin Frank, luff her up for all you're worth. We must get
her off on the other tack or we'll be past them."

She hauled on the mainsheet as she spoke. The _Tortoise_ rounded up into
the wind, lay over till the water began to pour over her side, righted
herself again and stood suddenly on an even keel, her sails flapping
wildly, the boat herself trembling like a creature desperately
frightened. Then she fell off on her new tack. Priscilla dragged Miss
Rutherford up to windward. Frank, guided by instinct rather than by any
knowledge of what was happening, scrambled up past the end of the long
tiller. Priscilla let the main sheet run out again. The _Tortoise_ raced
straight for the shore.

"Keep her as she's going, Cousin Frank. I'll get the sail off her."

For a minute or two there was wild confusion. Priscilla treading on Miss
Rutherford without remorse or apology, struggled with the halyard.
The sail bellied hugely, dipped into the sea to leeward and was hauled
desperately on board. The rain streamed down on them, each drop starting
up again like a miniature fountain when it splashed upon the wood of the
boat. The _Tortoise_, nearly half full of water, still staggered towards
the shore under her foresail. Priscilla hauled at the rope of the
centreboard.

"Run her up on the beach," she shouted. "If we do knock a hole in her it
can't be helped. Oh glory, glory! look at that!"

One of the tents tore itself from its fastenings, flapped wildly in the
air and then collapsed on the ground, a writhing heaving mass of soaked
canvas. The _Tortoise_ struck heavily on the shore. Priscilla leaped
over her bows and ran up the beach with the anchor in her hand. She
rammed one of its flukes deep into the gravel. Then she turned towards
the boat and shouted:

"You help Frank out, Miss Rutherford. I must run on and see what's
happening to those tents."

A young woman, rain soaked and dishevelled, knelt beside the fallen
tent. She was working with fierce energy at the guy ropes, such of them
as still clung to their pegs. They were hopelessly entangled with the
others which had broken free and all of them were knotted and twisted
round corners of the flapping canvas.

"If I were you," said Priscilla, "I'd leave those things alone till the
storm blows over. You're o