strong, chill wind—Messenger leaned heavily to starboard, the flattened sea seemed to rise up in a line of foam under her quarter, water poured in at the streaming scuppers—and away she went—blinded, battered, drenched—away and away like a hunted creature flying for its life.Certainly five minutes passed before these two adventurers began to take stock of their situation.  So far, they had just let drive, steering the only possible course, straight ahead.  At the end of five minutes the force of the downpour began to abate, but the wind was increasing.

As soon as speech was possible Adrian asked where she thought they were going?

The skipper laughed rather tremulously--it had been a strenuous five minutes.

"What about America?  We might call on President Wilson.  Please remember we can go where we please on the High Seas now!  No more permits--no more ’out of bounds’.  The question is, where can you get your hair cut?"

"Anywhere will do between here and Land’s End," answered Adrian generously.

The rain was pouring off his sou’wester, over his nose. He looked very large and cheerful.

Now this was approximately the moment when Pamela assured her mother--on Adrian’s authority--that the voyagers would be on shore at Tamerton or Netheroot!  It was no doubt fortunate for Mrs. Romilly that she could not see the facts of the situation.

The straining yawl was driving her way through apparently limitless grey sea, of which the churning foam was taken by a wild wind and flung ahead in stinging mist.  The sky, so far as it could be seen, was a froth of whirling cloud; everything was grey and confused--no land--no order--no outline.

"I believe we are going straight out to sea," said Crow.

"Do you?"  Adrian was not impressed, "we may be going anywhere--all ways look alike.  Jolly untidy view I call it!  And look here, what about that wretched dinghy? She’s about full up, and to judge by the way she’s towing weighs about two ton!  In one of these jerks we shall snap the painter; and then--she’ll sink like a ton of sand."

Of all things in the world Christobel dreaded what she called "playing with boats" in the open sea, under conditions like the present.  She pictured a sickening lurch, Addie overboard--driving to leeward--swallowed up in hideous grey confusion, herself helpless!  Her lips grew white, but all she said was:

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