He disappeared down a scuttle forward, leaving Vane somewhat disturbed in mind. He had merely contemplated taking his guests for a few hours' run, but to have them on board for, perhaps, several days was a very different thing. Besides, he was far from sure that they would understand the necessity for the latter, in which case the situation might become difficult. In the meanwhile, the sloop drove on, until at last towards morning the beach fell back on each hand and she met the long swell tumbling in from the Pacific. The wind was from the north-west and blowing moderately hard; there was no light yet in the sky above the black heights to the east of him, and the swell grew higher and steeper, breaking white here and there. The sloop plunged over it wildly, hurling the spray aloft, and it cost him a determined effort to haul his sheets in as the wind drew ahead. Shortly afterwards, the beach faded altogether on one hand, and he saw that the sea was piled up into foaming ridges. It seemed most improbable that the steamer would run in to land her Indian passengers, and he drove the sloop on with showers of stinging brine beating into her wet canvas and whirling about him. By and by he noticed that a stream of smoke was pouring from the short funnel of the stove, and soon afterwards the cabin slide opened. Miss Blake crept out and stood up in the well, gazing forward while she clutched the coaming. Day was now breaking, and Vane could see that her thin dress was blown flat against her. There was something graceful in her pose, and it struck him that she had a very pretty slender figure. "Where's the steamer?" she asked. It was a question Vane had dreaded; but he answered it honestly: "I can't tell you. It's very likely that she has gone straight on to Victoria." He read suspicion in her suddenly hardening face. "You expected this when you asked us to come on board!" she cried. "No," said Vane, whose face grew hot. "On my honour, I did nothing of the kind. There was only a moderate breeze when we left, and when it freshened enough to make it unlikely that the steamer would run in, I was as vexed as you seem to be. As it happened, I couldn't go back. I must get on to Victoria as soon as possible." She looked at him searchingly. "Then what are we to do?" she asked. There was distress in the cry, but Vane answered it in his most matter-of-fact tone: "So far as I can see, you can only reconcile yourself to staying on board. We'll have a fresh fair wind for Victoria once we're round the next head, and with luck we ought to get there late to-night." "You're sure you'll be there, then?" "I'm sorry I can't even promise that: it depends upon the weather," he replied. "But you mustn't stand up in the spray. You're getting wet through." She still clung to the coaming, but he fancied that her misgivings were vanishing; and he spoke again: "How are Mrs. Marvin and the little girl? I see you have lighted the stove."