There is a long twilight even in winter up in these latitudes; but one afternoon the sea was so inviting, the sky so serene, that Lotty had been manœuvring the _Jenny Wren_ farther from shore than probably she believed herself to be. Suddenly she noticed a huge black cloud rising rapidly up in the south-west. So dense and dark was it that, though fringed along its top-edge at first by the yellow-gold light of sunset, it speedily assumed the appearance of a huge pall obscuring the sky and obliterating every vestige of twilight from the surface of the sea. Lotty could see a line of foam approaching, and for the first time in her boating career she felt nervous. She never lost her presence of mind for one moment, however. The wind had changed a bit, and well she knew it would soon blow almost a hurricane off the shore. But she was ready. Down went the helm; she lowered sail quickly. The danger was in broaching-to, and she had to act as skipper and crew as well--ay, and the man at the wheel--for she must try to keep the skiffs head to the wind and seas. Only her extraordinary strength enabled her now to unstep the mast, and this with the oars and sail she quickly tied together with some spare rope and the sheet. She worked cautiously, yet with a speed that was wondrous, tying everything securely and with the best of sailor's knots, and finally crawling aft and fastening the boat's painter firmly to the whole as near to the centre of the jib as possible. Then overboard with a flash went the lashed oars and spar, but not a second too soon. The squall drove down on her with tremendous force, and had the painter snapped nothing could have saved the gipsy lass from a watery grave. But that painter held, and next moment she was crouching in comparative safety between the bows of the _Jenny Wren_. There was driving scud and spray, almost whole water at times, and a constant lifting of the after-part of the boat, which seemed to flog the seas with a noise that made Lotty think the timbers were snapping. But as the tiny yacht filled up with water till she was nearly swamped both this movement and the noise became less apparent. Lotty had no intention, however, of letting the _Jenny Wren_ get wholly swamped, so as soon as the first force of the squall had abated a little she set herself to bail the boat. The bailer was semi-shallow and a very useful one. It was lashed so that there could be no danger of losing it.