Powis," said a soft voice at a window beneath
them.
"Miss Effingham!" said Paul, so eager that he suffered the tiller-line to
escape him.
"These are frightful cries!--Shall we never be rid of them!"
"If it depended on me--on either of us--they should distress you no more.
The boat is slowly entering the inlet, but has to struggle with a
head-tide. The wind baffles, and is light, or in ten minutes we should be
out of danger."
"Out of this danger, but only to encounter another!"
"Nay, I do not think much of the risk of the ocean in so stout a boat. At
the most, we may be compelled to cut away the roof, which makes our little
bark somewhat clumsy in appearance, though it adds infinitely to its
comfort. I think we shall soon get the trades, before which our launch,
with its house even, will be able to make good weather."
"We are certainly nearer those cries than before!"
Paul felt his cheek glow, and his hand hurriedly sought the tiller-line,
for the boat had sensibly sheered towards the northern reef. A puff of air
helped to repair his oversight, and all in the launch soon perceived that
the cries were gradually but distinctly drawing more aft.
"The current lessens," said Paul, "and it is full time; for it must be
near high water. We shall soon feel it in our favour, when all will
be safe!"
"This is indeed blessed tidings! and no gratitude can ever repay the debt
we owe you, Mr.
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