She was only aware of voices above talking and laughing, or sailor calls being shouted out, or now and then of some one coming to look at her, and insisting on her taking food. It was not till late in the afternoon that she awoke from what seemed like a strange long uneasy dream, and found one of the girls sitting by her and telling her she was better now. “Yes,” said Vera, trying to raise herself, finding something over her head, and falling back on the pillow; “but what is it? Where is this?” “_This_ is somewhere out in the Channel, near off Guernsey, Griggs says, but we cannot put in anywhere till the gale goes down.” “What is it? Is it a ship, then?” “O yes,” said the girl, laughing; “a yacht, the _Kittiwake_. Sir Robert Audley has lent it to my brother, and we are all going to see the Hebrides and Staffa and Iona.” “Not to take me all up there?” groaned poor Vera, in horror. “Can’t you put me out somewhere, anywhere?” “Don’t be afraid,” was the much-amused reply. “As soon as ever we can put in anywhere, we can telegraph to Rock Quay and put you ashore to go home; but we can only run before the wind while the sea is so high. I wish you could come on deck, it is so jolly!” “Oh! it was too dreadful!” “Beating about in the boat! It must have been, Mr. Delrio told us.” “It was so stupid in him never to see that we had got loose, and were drifting off,” said Vera, who had never thought of inquiring after him. “My father and Griggs think he behaved quite like a hero,” was the answer. “He must have managed very well to keep you afloat, and saved you all this time.” “I suppose so,” said Vera. “We always did know him, or I should not have let him get me into that boat, when he minded nothing but his verses.” “Those verses, they came all limp and wet out of his pocket, and Francie made him let her dry them and copy them out; and she is so delighted with them. It really is well it is too late to call the baby Cyriac.” “The baby?” “Oh, yes. We had to leave him behind, though Francie was ready to break her heart over it; but they said that nothing would do for Ivinghoe—after this second influenza—but a sea voyage, so she had to make up her mind to leave him to my mother.” Vera was in a state of bewilderment, caring a great deal more for herself and her own sensations than for any of her surroundings; and her next question was, “When do you think we shall be out of this?”