The fog was closing in on them now, and the wind dropped before it. The rail dripped with the chill dampness, and the sails flapped heavily as they swung over the deck whenever the vessel changed her course. "Peggy dear, wilt thou not go below and keep warm?" said Christopher's voice. "Nay, let me stay by thee whilst I can; and, Kit, if I obey thee in this, mind, 'tis only that I may help thee more. Romney--Master Huntoon--hath friends in the colony who are sure to sift this matter to the last. And it will go hard but we find some way to bring thee aid and comfort yet." "Philpotts, can you see how we are heading?" "No, faith, Master Huntoon, no more than if I were blindfold. The wind is dead ahead now; but whether it hath shifted or the boat hath run off its course, I know not." "Hearken!" cried Peggy, putting her hand to her ear. "Did ye hear no noise? Methought I caught a sound as of a horn or a distant bell. Perchance 'twas the church bell ringing for noonday prayers. I heard them telling of some saint's day celebrated to-day." All the men stood listening. Neville rose and running along the deck climbed to the bowsprit to listen again. Suddenly he cried out at the top of his voice, "Boat ahoy! Ahoy there!" Too late! The three huddled together in the stern were aware of a large vessel looming up and up above them, rising with the rising wave, and then lunging forward full upon _The Lady Betty_. Huntoon clasped Peggy in his arms as though he could shield her thus from the inevitable crash. Philpotts dropped the helm and rushed forward to drag back Neville. Again too late. The two boats met with a shock. By good luck when Philpotts dropped the helm, _The Lady Betty_ had veered away from the larger vessel, so that the packet's bowsprit, having crashed against her, bumped along against the side, knocking away rail and stanchion, and staving a hole in her, deep and dangerous but not instantly fatal. For one instant all drew a breath of relief at the deadly peril passed. Then, to their dismay, they heard Philpotts crying out, "He's overboard! The bowsprit hit him!" "Overboard!" cried Peggy; "but he is a famous swimmer, surely he can reach the boat." Even as she spoke, something white rose to the surface and sank again, and Peggy knew it for Christopher's face with death in it, and but for Romney's strong arm around her, she, too, would have thrown herself into that cold grave. "Let me go to him!" she shrieked aloud in her anguish of soul. "O Kit! Dead! Dead!" The words seemed to fall dully on the surrounding wall of fog. No sound; not even an echo answered. Away to the right a single sail flitted ghostlike, showing no hull to support it. On the left close at hand loomed the packet which had wrought so much harm.