“I asked,” said Priscilla, “because in order to get out of the bay I shall have to jibe, and that means that you’ve got to hop across the centreboard case.” Frank had not the least idea of what happens when a small boat jibes. He intended to ask for information, but was not given any opportunity. The boom, which had hitherto behaved with dignity and self-possession, suddenly swung across the boat with such swiftness that he had no time to duck his head to avoid it. His straw hat, struck on the brim, was swept over the side of the boat. He found himself thrown down against the gunwale, while a quantity of cold water poured over his legs. He grasped the centreboard case, the nearest stable thing at hand, and pulled himself up again into the middle of the boat. Priscilla, a good deal tangled in a writhing rope, was struggling past the tiller to the windward side. “What’s happened?” asked Frank. “Jibed all standing,” said Priscilla. “I didn’t mean to, of course. I must have been sailing her by the lee. But it’s all right. We didn’t ship more than a bucketful. I say, I’m rather sorry about your hat; but that’s a rotten kind of hat in a boat anyway. Would you mind getting up to windward? I’ve got to luff her a bit and she’ll heel over.” “Is it gone?” “What? Oh, the hat. Yes, quite. We couldn’t get it without jibing again.” “Don’t let us do that,” said Frank, “if we can help it. “I won’t. But do get up to windward. That is to say if your ankle’s not too bad. I must luff a bit or we’ll go ashore. The water’s getting very shallow.” Frank scrambled over the centreboard case and bumped down on the floor boards on the windward side of the boat Priscilla pushed over the tiller and began to haul vigorously on the main sheet. The Tortoise swept round, heeled over and rushed through the water on a broad reach. The wind, so it seemed to Frank, began to blow much harder than before. He clung to the weather stay and watched the bubbling water tear past within an inch or two of the lower gunwale. A sudden spasm of extreme nervousness seized him. He looked anxiously at Priscilla. She seemed to be entirely calm and self-possessed. His self-respect reasserted itself. He remembered that she was merely a girl. He set his teeth and determined to show no sign of fear. Gradually the exhilaration of the motion, the coolness of the breeze through his hair, the dancing, impulsive rush of the boat, and the shining white of the sail in front of him conquered his qualms. He began to enjoy himself as he had never in his life enjoyed himself before. “I say, Priscilla,” he said, “this is fine.” “Topping,” said Priscilla.