“Right,” said Priscilla. “You carry them down and sling them on board. I’ll help Frank. Now, then, Cousin Frank, do stand up. I can’t drag you down over the seaweed on your side. You’ve got to hop more or less.” Miss Rutherford, with the loaf of bread, the peaches and the peppermint creams in her hand, ran down to the boat. Frank and Priscilla followed her. Jimmy had put the anchor on board and was holding the Tortoise with her bow against the shingle. “Take me, too,” said Miss Rutherford. “I love chasing spies more than anything else in the world.” “All right,” said Priscilla. “Bound in and get down to the stern. Now, Frank, you’re next. Oh, do go on. Jimmy, give him a lift from behind. I’ll steer this time.” She hauled on the foresail halyard, got the sail up and made the rope fast. Then she sprang to the stern, squeezed past Miss Rutherford and took the tiller. “Shove her off, Jimmy, wade in a bit and push her head round. I’ll go off on the starboard tack and not have to jibe. Oh, Miss Rutherford, don’t, please don’t sit on the main sheet.” The business of getting a boat, which is lying head to wind to pay off and sail away, is comparatively simple. The fact that the shore lies a few yards to windward does not complicate the matter much. The main sheet must be allowed to run out so that the sail does not draw at first. The foresail, its sheet being hauled down, works the boat’s head round. Unfortunately for Priscilla, her main sheet would not run out. Miss Rutherford made frantic efforts not to sit on it, but only succeeded in involving herself in a serious tangle. Jimmy Kinsella pushed the boat’s head round. Both sails filled with wind. Priscilla held the tiller across the boat without effect The Tortoise heeled over, and with a graceful swerve sailed up to the shore again. “Oh bother!” said Priscilla, “shove her off again, Jimmy. Wade in with her and push her head right round. Thank goodness I have the main sheet clear now.” This time the Tortoise swung round and headed for the entrance of the bay. “Jimmy,” shouted Miss Rutherford, “there’s some soup in the pot. Go and eat it. Afterwards you’d better come on in your boat and see what happens to us.” “There’s no necessity for any excitement,” said Priscilla. “Let everybody keep quite calm. We are bound to catch them.” The Tortoise swung round the rocks at the mouth of the bay. Flanagan’s old boat was seen a quarter of a mile ahead, running towards a passage which seemed absolutely blocked with rocks. The Tortoise began to overhaul her rapidly. “I almost wish,” said Miss Rutherford, “that you’d allowed Frank to steer. When we’re out for an adventure we ought to be as adventurous as possible.” “They’re trying the passage through Craggeen,” said Priscilla, with her eyes on Flanagan’s old boat. “That shows they’re pretty desperate. Hand me the peppermint creams. There’s jolly little water there at this time of the tide. It’ll be sheer luck if they get through.”