things. I always make navy officers talk to me about those things whenever I get a chance. Besides, I can prove it to you. Ask the first captain of a fishing-schooner you meet down at the landing what it means. But don't tell me I don't—know it's too absurd."
Miss Cordelia looked down. Her hand still rested on Fanny's arm, and it trembled now so that the young girl felt it.
"What does it mean, then?" asked Cordelia, faintly.
"Oh, it's a long operation to tell about. It's when you've got a lee-shore in a gale, and you want to go about and can't, because you miss stays every time, and you let go an anchor, and the ship swings to it, and just as she begins to get way on, you slip your chain, and she pays off on the other tack. Of course you lose your anchor."
"Oh—you lose the anchor? To save the ship? I see."
"Exactly."
"You lose the anchor to save the ship," repeated Cordelia, softly, as though she were try-
