When the train arrived at its destination, a couple of carriages conveyed the travellers on the next stage of their journey, and with their arrival at the little fishing village came the first hitch in the programme. Arthur had written in advance to ask that two of the best boats should be reserved for his party, and that a fisherman should be in readiness to go in each, so that his friends need not exert themselves more than they felt inclined. It is one thing, however, to despatch an order to the depths of the country, and quite another to find it fulfilled. As a matter of fact, the letter was even now lying unopened in the village post-office, and Arthur was confronted with the intelligence that men and boats had departed _en masse_ to attend a regatta which was taking place some miles along the coast. Only a few of the oldest and most unwieldy boats had been left behind, and neither man nor boy could be found to row them. Here was a fine predicament! A snapshot taken of the party at this moment would have been an eloquent study in disappointment, and each one looked expectantly at Arthur, waiting for him to find a solution of the difficulty. "Here is a fine pickle! I'm furious with myself, and yet I don't see what more I could have done. There are two alternatives before us, so far as I can see--either we must get into one of these old tubs and row ourselves across, or give up the island altogether, and spend the day where we are." At this there was a groan of dismay, for, truth to tell, the village was of an uninteresting character, and the sands felt like an oven in the shadeless noon. To spend the day here would indeed be waste of time, while only a few miles off lay the island of their dreams--that wonderful island, with the blue waves splashing its shores, the kindly trees shading its crest. "The island! the island!" cried the girls in chorus, while the men looked at each other, braced themselves up, and said: "We can do it. Why not? It will be a stiff pull, but the day is our own. We can take our time, and rest when we are tired. Let us go at once and choose a boat." It was Dobson's choice, however, or very nearly so, for the only boats left were tubs indeed, in which a score of passengers could have been accommodated as easily as eight. Large as they were, however, there was one member of the party who seemed diffident about their sea-going quality, and, wonderful to relate, that person was Peggy herself. "Is it safe?" she kept asking. "Is it safe? Are you quite sure it is safe?"--and her companions stared in amazement at this sudden access of nervousness. "Why, Peggy, you are surely not turning coward in your old age!" Arthur cried laughingly, as he dragged at the unwieldy bulk. "If you are afraid of this old bark, I don't know when you would feel safe. It is like going to sea in a pantechnicon!"