When they awoke next morning the wind was blowing heavily from the northwest, and, while the sun was as yet shining brightly, the sky was darkened here and there with banks of clouds, which moved with great rapidity, driven by violent currents. Inside the snug harbour the water was calm, but, looking out beyond on the bay, they could see its surface broken already into big waves. “Looks like a nasty day outside,” remarked George Warren. “I wonder whether we ought to lie in here to-day, or take the chance of clearing the foot of the island before it gets heavier.” “I’d hate to stay here another whole day,” said Joe. “Do you think it’s going to blow much harder, George?” inquired Tom. “I can’t say for certain,” replied the other, “but it looks as though the wind was going to increase right along.” “But don’t you think we could get around the foot of the island before it got much worse?” asked Arthur. “There is only about a mile to run before we get under the lee of the islands in the other bay.” “Of course, if we can reach the eastern bay all right, we shall be in smooth water then,” said George, “for the island will shut off the wind to a great extent, and there won’t be much sea. Well, if you fellows are willing to take the chance, I am. I guess it won’t get any worse than the night we ran to Bryant’s Cove. The _Spray_ stood that all right.” Breakfast being finished, they double-reefed the mainsail of the little yacht, and did not set the jib, as they would be running with the wind about on their quarter and would not need it. Then they stood out of the harbour into the bay. They were almost immediately in rough water, and the very first plunge of the yacht into the heavy sea sent the spray flying over them. Young Joe and Arthur went scurrying into the cabin for the oilskins, of which they had a good supply, and the boys prepared themselves for wet weather. “We’ll get it right along now,” said George, “until we can clear that point about a mile ahead there. The _Spray_ does the best she can, but she does throw the water bad in a heavy sea. It isn’t her fault. And there’s one good thing about her; you can’t tip her over. She will stand up till the mast and sail are blown out of her.” The boys now realized how deceptive wind and water viewed from a distance always are. Gusts of wind that were seen from shore to blacken the water and send the spray flying from the crests of waves, were found now to be of far greater violence than they had supposed. Viewed from the harbour, the waves had not seemed to be of unusual size, but, now that they threw the little yacht about like a toy, they assumed a more terrific aspect. The wind increased, and the _Spray_ rolled dangerously in the seas. “She won’t stand this,” said George, at length. “We have got to put the third reef in and do it quick.”