What brought me to my senses was the boat hook, which had been lying on the seat beside me, suddenly falling to the floor.Istarted and looked over the rail.The water, as much of it as Icould see through the fog, was no longer flat and calm.There were waves all about us, not big ones, but waves nevertheless, long, regular swells in the trough of which the Comfort rocked lazily.
There was no wind to kick up a sea.This was a ground swell, such as never moved in Denboro Bay.While I sat there like an idiot the tide had carried us out beyond the Point.
With an exclamation I sprang up and hurried forward.Miss Colton was sitting where I had left her.
"What is it?" she asked."What are you going to do?""I am going to anchor," I said.
"I do not wish you to anchor."
"I can't help that.I must.Please stand aside, Miss Colton."She tried to prevent me, but I pushed her away, not too gently I am afraid, and clambered forward to the bow, where the anchor lay upon its coil of line.I threw it overboard.The line ran out to its very end and I waited expectantly for the jerk which would tell me that the anchor had caught and was holding.But no jerk came.
Reaching over the bow I tried the line.It was taut and heavy.
Then I knew approximately how far we had drifted.We were beyond the shoal making out from Crow Point over the deep water beyond.
My anchor rope was not long enough to reach the bottom.
Still I was not alarmed.I was provoked at my own stubbornness which had gotten us into this predicament and more angry than ever at the person who was the cause of that stubbornness.But I was not frightened.There were other shoals further out and I left the anchor as it was, hoping that it might catch and hold on one of them.I went back once more to my seat by the wheel.
Then followed another interval of silence and inaction.From astern and a good way off sounded the notes of a bell.From the opposite direction came a low groan, indescribably mournful and lonely.
My passenger heard it and spoke.
"What was that?" she demanded, in a startled tone.
"The fog horn at Mackerel Island, the island at the mouth of Wellmouth harbor," I answered.
"And that bell?"
"That is the fog bell at Crow Point."
"At Crow Point? Why, it can't be! Crow Point is in Denboro Bay, and that bell is a long way behind us.""Yes.We are a mile or more outside the Point now.The tide has carried us out.""Carried us-- Do you mean that we are out at sea?""Not at sea exactly.We are in Cape Cod Bay.""But--why, we are still drifting, aren't we? I thought you had anchored.""I tried to, but I was too late.The water is too deep here for the anchor to reach bottom.""But--but what are you going to do?"
"Nothing at present.There is nothing I can do.Sit down, please.""Nothing! Nothing! Do you mean that you propose to sit there and let us be carried out to sea?""We shall not be carried far.There is no wind.When the tide turns we shall probably be carried in again.""But," sharply, "why don't you do something? Can't you row?""I have only one oar."
"But you must do something.You MUST.I--I-- It is late! it is growing dark! My people! What will they think?""I am sorry, Miss Colton."
"Sorry! You are not sorry! If you were you would do something, instead of sitting there as--as if you enjoyed it.I believe you do enjoy it.You are doing it purposely to--to--""To what, pray?"
"Never mind."
"But I do mind.You have accused me of lying, Miss Colton, and of keeping you here purposely.What do you mean by it?""I mean that--that-- Oh, you know what I mean! You hate me and you hate my father, and you are trying to--to punish us for--for--"I had heard enough.I did not propose to hear any more.
"Miss Colton," I interrupted, sternly, "stop! this is silly.Iassure you that I am as anxious to end this--excursion--of ours as you can be.Your being afloat in Denboro Bay in a canoe was your own recklessness and not my fault.Neither was it my fault that the launch collided with your canoe.I called to you not to move, but to stay where you were.And, moreover, if you had permitted me to anchor when I first attempted to do so we should not be in this scrape.I shall get you out of it just as quick as I can.In order that I may do so I shall expect you to stop behaving like a child and do as I tell you.Sit down on that bench and keep still."This had the effect I meant it to.She looked at me as if she could not believe she had heard aright.But I met her gaze squarely, and, with a shudder of disgust, or fear, I do not know which, she turned her back upon me and was silent.I went forward to the cuddy, found the tin horn which, until that moment, I had forgotten, and, returning, blew strident blasts upon it at intervals.There was little danger of other craft being in our vicinity, but I was neglecting no precautions.
The bell at Crow Point sounded further and further astern.The twilight changed to dusk and the dusk to darkness.The fog was as thick as ever.It was nearly time for the tide to turn.
Suddenly there was a jerk; the launch quivered, and swung about.
"Oh! what was that?" demanded Miss Colton, shortly.
"The anchor," I answered."We have reached the outer shoal.""And," hesitatingly, "shall we stay here?""Yes; unless--"
"Unless what?"
"Unless...Hush! listen!"
There was an odd rushing sound from the darkness astern, a sort of hiss and low, watery roar.I rushed to the bow and dragged the anchor inboard with all my strength.Then I ran to the wheel.Ihad scarcely reached it when I felt a hand on my arm.
"What is it?" asked the young lady, her voice quivering."Oh, what is it?""Wind," I answered."There is a squall coming.Sit down! Sit down!""But--but--"
"Sit down."
She hesitated and I seized her arm and forced her down upon the bench beside me.I threw the helm over.The rushing sound grew nearer.Then came a blast of wind which sent my cap flying overboard and the fog disappeared as if it had been a cloth snatched away by a mighty hand.Above us was a black sky, with stars showing here and there between flying clouds, and about us were the waves, already breaking into foam upon the shoal.
