Both water and wind now were bitterly cold, and the work of bailing put some life in the girl. She did not mind that she was drenched as far as feet and legs went, for she was well used to that, and her body was well protected by a smart oilskin, her head by a natty little sou'-wester tied with a ribbon firmly under her chin. It was the girl's pride to have everything on board the _Jenny Wren_ ship-shape and Bristol fashion. Attached to a girdle round her waist she had even a small compass, and in a waterproof bag lashed under a thwart was a strong electric flashlight. In this bag also were stored provisions and a bottle of milk, to say nothing of a bagful of hazel-nuts and a box of chocolate which Chops had bought her when last at the neighbouring town. She was thankful that she had not brought Wallace, for he might have got excited and swamped the boat. It was now very dark, and every now and then the squall came down with merciless force upon her, so that, with the chance of the painter snapping when extra strain was on it, or the lashed spars being driven down upon the bows and staving them in, Lotty's position was that of exceeding great peril. In the midst of it all, however, she felt hungry, and presently crept farther aft; and, in spite of the intense darkness that now reigned, managed to open the bag and secure her supper. At the same time she took out her flashlight and hung this by its ring on to her girdle. She had a long draught of milk and returned the bottle, then--with a portion of food, a few nuts, and all the chocolates--she got forward again and resumed her place under the bows. Her supper revived her spirits and courage, although as yet she had not taken into consideration the chances of her being able to ride out the storm to leeward of her bundle of oars and spars. It was well for her she did not think much, for she was entirely at the mercy of the wind and the waves, and drifting nor'ard and east into one of the wildest seas anywhere around our coasts. More than a sea was this; it was part of the great Atlantic Ocean, that extended in one unbroken line or expanse till it reached the Arctic and thundered upon the wintry bergs of the sea of ice itself. But, more betoken, the farther away the boat drifted from the shore, the higher became the waves, the less the poor wee gipsy lass's chance of keeping above the stormy waves. CHAPTER XII. 'OUT YONDER, ON THE LEE BOW, SIR.' There was not a pulse in the gipsy camp that did not beat more quickly with anxiety on this sad winter's evening when the sudden black squall came roaring over the hills, bringing with it the darkness of night and obliterating both sea and land. Hardly did any one dare to ask another what would become of the helpless child in her little boat. Dread fear and uncertainty seemed at once to kill all hope.