threatening waves rise as high as they willed, that it all would bring them only the more swiftly to the desired haven.
There was no way of telling how long their voyage lasted. Sometimes it seemed to Billy that it was only a few minutes since they had set out, and he strained his ears to hear if Appledore were calling still. Sometimes it seemed that they had been sailing for days and that they must go on forever, soaked, dazed, worn out to the utmost, but determined still.
A dim grey shape loomed up through the rain at their right hand.
“Andrew’s Point,” announced Johann tersely. Billy felt an almost imperceptible change, the wind struck them a shade less fiercely, the seas were not so heavy, their speed began to slacken. Johann spoke suddenly once more as a dark line showed vaguely before them.
“That’s Rockford breakwater,” he said. “We’re nearly in.” Then—“Here, take her, Billy; I’m done!”
He collapsed all at once, sinking to his knees, yet managing somehow to steady the tiller until Billy’s hand fell upon it. Then, with a queer, gentle sigh, he dropped upon
