t that they were not seen. The
hot tide came rushing in, rising higher and higher. Both the boys
became very anxious, David more on his friend's account than his own.
So many persons have lost their lives much in the same way, that it
seemed probable the two boys would lose theirs.

We must now go back to the picnic party. Mr Sowton and Mr Burnaby,
and a few of the other more elderly ladies and gentlemen, began at
length to think it time to return home. The hampers were repacked and
carried, some up the cliffs by the servants, and others on board the
yachts; and Mr Sowton and Billy Burnaby acting, as they said, as
whippers-in, began shouting and screeching at the top of their voices.
Captain Rymer and Mr Moreton had gone on board their vessels to get
ready, and thus there was no one actually in command. The boats to take
off the party were rather small, and several trips had to be made. In
the meantime, those who were returning home by land climbed up the steep
path to the top of the cliff, where their carriages were waiting for
them. When they were fairly off, each party inquired what had become of
Harry and David. Captain Rymer's yacht, the _Arrow_, was off the first,
for the _Psyche_, Mr Moreton's, fouled her anchor, and it was some time
before it could be got up.

Mr Moreton thought that his son, and the young midshipman had,
attracted by sweet Mary Rymer, gone on board the _Arrow_; while Mary,
who, it must be owned, was rather sorry not to see them, took it for
granted that Harry was returning, as he had come, by land, and that
David had gone with him.

The yachts had a long beat back. As they got away from the land, the
wind increased very much, and came in strong sharp cold gusts which made
it necessary first to take in the gaff-topsails, and then one reef and
then another in the mainsails. As the wind increased the sea got up,
and the little vessels, more suited to fine weather than foul, had hard
work to look up to the rising gale. Still there was no help for it.
The tide helped them along, but by its meeting the wind much more sea
was knocked up than if both had been going the same way. Had such been
the case, the vessels could not have made good their passage. Darkness
coming on made matters worse: poor old Mr Sowton became wonderfully
silent, and Mr Burnaby, who was sitting on the deck of the cabin,
holding on by the leg of the table, looked the very picture of woe.
Mary Rymer, who was well a