“Take five or six peppermints,” said Miss Rutherford, “if you feel that they’ll steady your nerves. You’ll want something of the sort. I feel thrills down to the tips of my fingers.” Flanagan’s old boat ran on. Seen from the Tortoise she seemed to pass through an unbroken line of rocks. She twisted and turned now southwards, now west, now northwards. The Tortoise sped after her. “Now, Cousin Frank,” said Priscilla, “get hold of the centreboard rope and haul when I tell you. There’ll be barely water to float us, if there’s that. We’ll never get through with the centreboard down.” She headed the boat straight for a gravelly spit of land past which the tide swept in a rapid stream. A narrow passage opened suddenly. Priscilla put the tiller down and the Tortoise swept through. A mass of floating seaweed met them. The Tortoise fell off from the wind and slipped inside it. A heavy bump followed. “Up centreboard,” said Priscilla. “I knew it was shallow.” Frank pulled vigorously. Another bump followed. “Bother!” said Priscilla. “We’re done now.” The Tortoise swept up into the wind. Her sails flapped helplessly. “What’s the matter?” said Miss Rutherford. “Rudder’s gone,” said Priscilla. “That last bump unshipped it.” She held the useless tiller in her hand. The rudder, swept forward by the tide, drifted away until it went ashore on a reef at the northern end of the passage. The Tortoise, after making one or two ineffective efforts to sail without a rudder, grounded on the beach of Craggeen Island. Priscilla jumped out. “Just you two sit where you are,” said said, “and don’t let the boat drift. I’ll run on to the point of the island and see where those spies are going to. Then we’ll get the rudder again and be after them.” “Frank,” said Miss Rutherford, when Priscilla had disappeared, “have you any idea how we are to keep the boat from drifting?” “There’s the anchor,” said Frank. “I don’t trust that anchor a bit. It’s such a small one, and the boat seems to me to be in a particularly lively mood.” The Tortoise, her bow pressed against the gravel, appeared to be making efforts to force her way through the island. Every now and then, as if irritated by failure, she leaned heavily over to one side. “I think,” said Miss Rutherford, “I’ll stand in the water and hold her till Priscilla comes back. It’s not deep.” Frank’s sense of chivalry would not allow him to sit dry in the boat while a lady was standing up to her ankles in water beside him. He struggled overboard and stood on one leg holding on to the gunwale of the Tortoise. Priscilla was to be seen on the point of the island watching Flanagan’s old boat. “Let’s eat some peppermint creams,” said Miss Rutherford. “They’ll keep us warm.” “I’m awfully sorry about all this,” said Frank. “I don’t know what you’ll think of us. First I run into you and then Priscilla wrecks you on this island.”