They had all tried their hands at names. Sir George--_The Flying Dutchman_, because it certainly flew and was undoubtedly broad in the beam; Margaret--_The Sylph_, because it was so tubby; Gracie--_The Sand-fly_, because it flew over the sand; Jack, for abstruse reasons of his own--_Chingachgook_; Eager was quite content to leave it to them. But no matter what the others decided on, Jim always called it _Gracie_--to the real Gracie's immense satisfaction; and as he talked Gracie ten times as much as all the rest put together, _Gracie_ it finally became. When wind and weather put the Gracie out of action she lay under the walls of Carne, with folded wings and docked tail--for Jim always carried away the tiller into the house, for love of the very feel of it, and partly perhaps in token of proprietorship. It stood in a corner where he could always see it, and slept by his bedside. No one, however, ever thought of meddling with the sand-boat. In the first place, she belonged to Mr. Eager, and they held "passon" in highest esteem. And, in the second place, Carne was a dangerous place to wander round at night. Mr. Kennet had a gun, with which he was no great shot, indeed, but even the wildest bullet may find unexpected billet in the dark. It happened, one afternoon in the late autumn, that Eager was away on the confines of his wide sheepfold, about his Master's business. It had been wet and blusterous all day, and the boys were desultorily employed on their books in a corner of the kitchen; Jim with the _Gracie's_ polished tiller twisting fondly in his hand, as a devoted lover toys with a ribbon from his mistress's dress; Jack somewhat absorbed in the doings of Themistocles and Xerxes at Salamis, in a great volume which he had abstracted from the library the day before. The polished tiller wriggled more and more restlessly in Jim's hand, as though it longed to be up and doing. He got up at last and strolled out just to have a look at the rest of the _Gracie_. Jack was too busy sinking Persian galleys in Salamis Bay to pay any heed to anything nearer home. Jim found the wind blowing half a gale. It swept round the house with a scream, and seemed to meet again full on the _Gracie_, who quivered and throbbed as though longing to be off. The jib had been wrapped round the forestay, and the wind, working at it as though of one mind with him, had loosened the clew, and it was thrashing to and fro in desperate excitement. He climbed aboard, fitted the tiller, and sat in vast enjoyment. Why, it would only need a pull at a rope here and there, and he believed she would be off. The rain had hardened the soft sand, and there was a good slope down to the ribbed flats below. He had always longed for a run all by himself, and he knew the ropes and how to steer her as well as Mr. Eager did.