The upturned boat was floating outward with the stream, and it took me a very long time and a strong swim, that tired my arms more than I can say, before I could be sure that I was shortening the distance that separated me from this one refuge.  But at last the boat got into a whirling eddy that turned her round and round, and so kept her back until I was within a fathom of her.  Yet even this short distance seemed more than I could now swim, for, with my clothes on and my jacket buttoned over me, my arms were not free enough to let me swim with any ease, and I began to despair and to flounder about in such eagerness to reach the boat, that I sank twice under the waves and got my mouth filled with the briny water.

In my growing fear, however, I thought of the viking’s stone that hung under my waistcoat.  Surely now was a time to test its power, I thought, and the thought gave me courage.  Renewing my efforts, I at length reached the boat and grasped the rudder.  But the rudder came away in my hand, having been displaced in the capsizing of the boat.  This, however, aided me in keeping afloat till I was enabled to reach the boat again and cling to the keel.

Now was I in comparative safety, for I did not doubt that Carver Kinlay would see me and bear down to rescue me.

When, after many failures, I managed to climb up the side of the boat and get astride of her keel, I began to feel sick with the sea water I had swallowed and weak after my long swim.  Then my head grew dizzy, a mist came over my eyes, and I fainted away.

Chapter XXI.  The Rescue.

When I returned to consciousness the warm sunlight was slanting down upon me.  I opened my eyes and saw the snowy clouds floating in the blue sky.  I thought I had but fallen asleep in the stern of the Curlew as she lay against the jetty on that Sabbath afternoon.

I felt the boat rising and falling gently on the tide.  All was quiet, except for the swishing of the water against the planks of the boat.

I tried to speak: 

“Father,” I said, thinking he was there on the jetty smoking.

Then I felt a hand laid gently on my breast and a shadow crossed between me and the sun.

“He is waking!” said a voice that sounded as sweet as the song of the skylark to my ears:  “Halcro!  Halcro!”

A soft hand raised my head, and then I saw, looking down into my eyes, a beautiful face, framed in a mass of waving hair that the sunlight had turned into brightest gold.  It was the face of Thora Kinlay.

How Thora came to be there, leaning over me, I could not tell.  My mind was in a strange confusion, and I remembered nothing of what I had gone through.  But soon I heard another voice speaking to me.  It was the voice of my sister Jessie.

“Halcro!  Halcro!” it murmured.

“Where am I?” I asked; for I could not understand how I came to be lying in the bottom of a little sailing boat with my limbs all aching and trembling.