Archie had moorings in the bay, so that they lost no time in setting forth. And at first everything went well enough; for they had merely to beat out against the swirls of wind that came into the sheltered harbour; and the water was comparatively smooth. But when they got into the open they found a heavy sea running; and the lugger began to dip her bows and fling flying showers of spray down to the stern; while the bank of black cloud in the west was slowly advancing, heralded by torn shreds of silver that chased each other across the menacing sky. Big Archie took off his jacket and offered it to Miss Stanley, to shield her from the wet; but she obstinately refused, and bade him put it on again: her sole and whole attention was fixed on the phantom-grey yacht down there in the south, that was every other moment hidden from view by the surging crests of the waves. She had to cling to the gunwale, to prevent her being hurled from her seat; for the lugger was labouring sorely, and staggering under these successive shocks; but all the same her eyes, though they smarted from the salt foam, were following the now distant _Sirène_ with a kind of wild entreaty in them, as though she would fain have called across the waste of waters. "Can they see us, Archie?—can they see us?" she cried. "Could not the boy climb up to the mast-head and wave something?" "Aw, no, mem," said Archie, "they are too far aweh. They are far too far aweh. And they are not knowing we are looking towards them." "But if we keep right on to Heimra?" said she, in her desperation. "Surely they will see we are making for the island—they will come back——" "They would just think it was the Gillie Ciotach going out to look after the lobster-traps," said Archie. "Not in this weather!" she urged. "Not in this weather! They must see it is something of importance. They will see the boat going out to Heimra—they are sure to come back, Archie—they are certain to come back!" "We will hold on for Heimra if you wish it, mem—but there’s a bad sea getting up," said Archie, with his eye on those tumultuous swift-running masses of water, the crashing into which caused even this heavy craft to quiver from stem to stern. By this time the heavens had still further darkened around them—a boding gloom, accompanied, as it was, by a fitful howling of wind; while rain was falling in torrents. Not that this latter mattered very much, for they were all of them drenched to the skin by the seas that were leaping high from the lugger’s bows; only that the deluge thickened all the air, so that it became more and more difficult to catch a glimpse of the now fast-receding _Sirène_. Archie paid but little attention to the yacht; he seemed to have no hope of attracting her notice; but he was greatly distressed about the condition of the young mistress of Lochgarra.