She did not talk any more, but sat very quiet, watching each wave as it came, and looking up now and again at my face, as if to read our chances there. You may be sure I looked steady enough, so as not to give her a moment's more uneasiness than she need. But, for all that, I was concerned to see how much water we shipped, and how much less easily the boat travelled in consequence. Quit the helm I durst not. Yet how could I ask her to perform so menial a task as to bail the boat? But it soon went past the point of standing on ceremony. "Begging your pardon, Miss Kit," said I, "there's a can below the seat you're on. If you could use it a bit to get quit of some of the water, it would help us." She was down on her knees on the floor of the boat at once, bailing hard. "Are we in danger of sinking?" said she, looking up. "No, surely; but we're better without water in the boat." Whereat she worked till her arm ached, and yet made little enough impression on the water, which, with every roll we took, swung ankle deep from side to side, and grew every minute. We wanted a mile of Knockowen still, and I was beginning to think there would be nothing for it but to put out again before the wind, and run the risk of meeting the heavy sea in the open, when the wind suddenly shifted a point, and came up behind us once more. It was a lucky shift for us, for my little mistress was worn-out with her labour, and a few more broadsides might have swamped us. As it was, we could now run straight for home, and a few minutes would see us alongside the little pier of Knockowen. I helped her back to her seat beside me, and drew the tarpaulin around her. Her face, which had been anxious enough for a while, cleared as suddenly as the wind had shifted. "I declare, Barry, I was afraid just now." "So you might be; and no shame to you for it," said I. "Are you ever afraid?" said she. "Ay, I was at Kilgorman that night." Again she laughed. "I'd as soon be afraid of a real peril as of a silly fancy," said she. "I mean to go and see Kilgorman one day." "Not with my good-will, mistress," said I. "Well, without it then, Mr Barry Gallagher," she replied with a toss of the head which fairly abashed me, and made me remember that after all I was but a servant-man in my lady's house. The sea, blessings on it! levels all things, and I had almost forgotten this little lady was my mistress. But I recalled it now, and still more when, ten minutes later, we ran alongside his honour's jetty, and my fair crew was taken out of my hands by her parents, while I was left to carry up the dripping baggage, and seek my supper as best I could. CHAPTER SEVEN. A BOOK OF FATE.