Once more the stove was lighted, and presently the famished crew was enjoying a hearty meal, in spite of the disordered state of the yacht below and aloft. The plain but satisfying repast over, the _Thetis_ was put on her course again, and Mr. Grant and Peter tackled the torn mainsail. This they temporarily repaired by joining the rent edges by herring-bone stitching, putting on in addition a patch of canvas cut from the damaged jib. This done, the mainsail was reefed and then rehoisted. The spitfire jib was then set and the _Thetis_ increased her speed to a good five knots, lying a point closer to the wind than before. By this time it was within an hour of sunset. The wind was still moderating and had veered another couple of points, so that it was possible to set a course to pass within five miles of Mapplewick before going about. Nevertheless, it seemed very unlikely that the _Thetis_ would make her port before dawn, since the harbour was a tidal one and could only be entered between half flood and half ebb. At length darkness set in. The port and starboard lamps were lit and the electric lamp of the binnacle switched on. The breeze still held, but there seemed every prospect of another calm before very long. At eleven o'clock the occulting light on Probert Head became visible, bearing a point on the starboard bow. Mapplewick Harbour lay in a bay three miles beyond the head. "More grub," decided the skipper. "Peter, if you will take the helm for a spell we'll get our supper. Then you can have yours and turn in." "I'm not sleepy, sir," protested Craddock. "You will be," said Mr. Clifton. "A few hours' rest will do you good. Keep her as she is, she'll almost sail herself. Shout if you sight anything." The two men went below, leaving Craddock in charge of the deck. "That youngster's proved himself a brick!" declared Mr. Clifton warmly. "You ought to be proud of him, Grant." "I am," agreed the Scoutmaster, as he started up the stove. "Curiously enough, he'd hardly been afloat before he joined the troop, but he seemed to tumble to things naturally. His father is a farmer in a fairly big way. His grandfather was also a farmer, so it seems strange that the boy should suddenly develop a real sailorman's instincts." "Possibly if you traced further back you'd find that he had an ancestor who was a pirate, smuggler or merchant adventurer," suggested Mr. Clifton. "The seafaring strain must have skipped several generations and suddenly developed in young Craddock. Sailors are born, not made, you know." They conversed in loud tones, for the buzzing of the Primus stove and the thud of the waves against the yacht's weather bow rendered conversation in an ordinary tone inaudible. Once Rex stirred himself and gazed intently through the companion into the dark night, but the action was unnoticed by either of the two men. Apparently satisfied the sheep-dog stretched himself at full length on one of the bunks.