As Greta had broken the compact by speaking, Hildegarde entered upon an explanation:  “We have been down the stream looking for you—­” But here she was interrupted by a frown from Greta, who suddenly recollected the slight that had been put upon them.

“Naughty boys to run away!” said little Minchen.  “You sha’n’t see my boat sail!”

“My ship is aground on that island,” said Will, willing to change the subject.  “I have no way of getting her off.  I wonder if the boat we came in is too large to be got up here.”

“The boat was taken back to Zaandam,” said Hildegarde, “and our boat is away, too.”

“The ‘America’ will have to stay where she is, then,” said Will, trying to speak cheerfully.

“Pretty ship is lost!  Too bad!” said Minchen, pityingly.  Then brightly:  “I’ll give you mine!-may be,” she added in a doubtful tone, as her glance fell lovingly upon the boat she was hugging under her arm.

Meantime, Greta had been studying the situation.  She now turned to Will.  “I can get your ship off,” she said.  “Take care of my boat till I come back, and don’t sail her on any account.  I wont be gone long.”

She handed her boat to Will, and was around the bend in an instant; and it was not very long before the anxious group heard the sound of her rapid footsteps returning.  Will thought she had gone to the mill to get some one to help them, but she came back alone, and all she brought with her was a large ball of cord.

Martin and Minchen asked her twenty questions while she made her preparations, but she would not reveal her plans, although it was evident from the way she went to work that she had a very clear idea of what she intended to accomplish.

In the first place, she said the whole party must go further up the bank, so as to get above the “America,” which was on the lower edge of the little island.  When they had gone far enough, she tied one end of the cord to the rudder-post of her canal-boat.  Then she turned the cunning little windlass, and slowly up went the mast to its full height.  The next thing was to unfurl the sail, set it properly, and set the rudder,—­all of which she did deftly and correctly, making Will feel ashamed of what he had said about the ignorance of girls.

She placed the boat on the water.  The sail filled, and off went the “Wilhelmina” with a slow, true, steady motion, her red sail glowing in the sunshine, and her stiff little pennant standing straight out in the wind.  As the boat crossed the pool, Greta played out the cord carefully, so as not to impede its motion.  When it reached the other side and had gently grounded on the shelving shore, Greta gave the line into Will’s hand.

“If you will hold this,” she said, “I will go across the bridge.”

“Don’t trouble yourself to do that,” said Will, “I will go over.”

“No,” said Greta, “I wish to go.  I am captain of my own craft, and I know how to manage my ‘Wilhelmina.’”