'll maybe come to her later. But that
other one--The Lord saves us."

He helped Frank on shore as he talked. Then he called Jimmy from the
cottage. Between them they hauled the _Blue Wanderer_ above high-tide
mark.

"There she'll stay," said Kinsella vindictively, "for the next
twenty-four hours anyway. Do you feel that now?"

Frank felt a sudden gust of wind and a heavy splash of rain. The sky
looked singularly dark and heavy over the southeastern shore of the bay.
Ragged scuds of clouds, low flying, were tearing across overhead.
The sea was almost black and very angry; short waves were getting up,
curling rapidly over and breaking in yellow foam. With the aid of Jimmy
Kinsella's arm Frank climbed the beach, passed the Kinsella's cottage
and made his way to the place where the two tents were pitched.
Priscilla was sitting on a camp stool at the entrance of Lady Isabel's
tent. The Reverend Barnabas Pennefather, looking cold and miserable, was
crouching at her feet in a waterproof coat. Lady Isabel was going round
the tents with a hammer in her hand driving the pegs deeper into the
ground.

"I'm just explaining to Barnabas," said Priscilla, "that he's pretty
safe here so far as Lord Torrington is concerned. He doesn't seem as
pleased as I should have expected."

"It's blowing very hard," said Mr. Pennefather, "and it's beginning to
rain. I'm sure our tents will come down and we shall get very wet Won't
you sit down, Mr.--Mr----?"

"Mannix," said Priscilla. "I thought you were introduced yesterday.
Hullo! What's that?"

She was gazing across the sea when she spoke. She rose from her camp
stool and pointed eastwards with her finger. A small triangular patch of
white was visible far off between Inishrua and Knockilaun. Frank and Mr.
Pennefather stared at it eagerly.

"It looks to me," said Priscilla, "very like the _Tortoise_. There isn't
another boat in the bay with a sail that peaks up like that. If I'm
right, Barnabas--But I can't believe that Peter Walsh and Patsy the
smith and all the rest of them would have been such fools as to let them
start."

A rain squall blotted the sail from view.

"Perhaps they couldn't help it," said Frank. "Perhaps Uncle Lucius----"

"Lady Isabel," shouted Priscilla, "come here at once. She won't come,"
she said to Frank, "if she can possibly help it, because she's furiously
angry with me for asking her why on earth she married Barnabas. Rather a
natural question, I thought Ba