Nathalie stood in the doorway, gesticulating eagerly with her slender brown hands. Her pretty face was quite flushed with excitement, and her hurried words tripped over each other in their anxiety to be spoken. "You see we must make haste, for Dick says we must be at the dock at eleven, or we won't catch the tide." "But what about luncheon?" interposed Helen quietly. A comical expression of dismay crossed Nathalie's face. "Oh, dear, I suppose you will want to kill us; but Jean and I, in a sudden fit of enthusiasm, said we would attend to that, and not one thing have we done yet." "Did you think to provide any cold meat for sandwiches?" demanded the young housekeeper. "Oh, yes; there are three stout chickens, some cold corned beef, and a 'bit of ham bone,' as Bridget puts it, gracing your larder." "Well, we haven't a moment to spare, so call Jean, and let us get right to work." The pile of sandwiches grew rapidly under the girls' deft hands, and little Larry, wandering in from the veranda, looked longingly at these interesting preparations. "Wish I could go with you," he ventured, with sudden courage. "Don't speak of it," replied Helen emphatically, as she ran out of the room to get a fresh supply of bread. "Guess you'll all be drownded, anyway," and Larry eyed them with a superior and triumphant mien. "That's right, my cheerful little brother," laughed Jean. "Always look on the bright side of things." "Now, when shall we tell Aunt Helen we will be back?" asked Nathalie, as they were fitting the cover down on the well-filled hamper. "Not later than five, I should think." "Don't let's commit ourselves, Helen," suggested Jean. "It is such a bore, and we will be troubling about it all the afternoon." "We must be home by five; I am not willing to leave the children any longer than that." "Perhaps you can manage the wind to suit your own purposes. You know it generally plays more or less of a part in sailing," and Jean gave a vicious tug at the last unfastened strap. "Don't be impertinent, Jean," Nathalie called out, as she ran swiftly upstairs. "Never mind, Helen, her youth is her only excuse." "All the same, we shall be home on time if possible, dearie." Jean laughed good-humoredly. "I am always disagreeable," she admitted, "when anyone speaks with decision. I don't know why, but it sets my teeth on edge." Dudley met them at the wharf with the cutter from the _Vortex_, and soon they were pulling swiftly out to the _Cyclone's_ mooring. As they rounded the stern of the old oyster sloop, a young man was seen standing at the wheel, his slender figure held firmly erect, one hand shading his eyes as he scanned the blue waters of the sound. "Who is that?" whispered Mollie. "Up oars!" cried Dudley, intent on bringing the cutter up in good form, and in a moment more they were clambering up the gang-steps, and Mollie's question went unanswered.