Upon passing beyond the ten-fathom line--which, owing to the fact that the reef was steep-to, was but a couple of hundred yards beyond the foam-lashed barrier--the _Titania's_ helm was ported and she shaped a southerly course. This she held until the high peaks of Ni Telang were almost hidden by the skyline, then altering course she made for her goal. There was now a steady following breeze which, although not so favourable as one broad on the beam, enabled her to keep up a fair speed without having recourse to the motors, and at one bell in the first dog watch she crossed the bar of Nua Leha. It was exactly at dead-low water, yet there were at least five feet under the yacht's keel. That meant that, unless there were a nasty breaking sea on a bar, the entrance was available at any state of the tide, which even at spring never ranged more than four feet six inches. [Illustration: THE GERMANS WERE DUMFOUNDED] The _Titania_ moored in nine fathoms, with her main anchor laid out in the direction of the reef, at about two hundred and fifty yards from the sandy shore of a small bay. At its northern extremity the bold headland of the bay almost touched the reef, there being a passage of about fifty yards leading to the next section of the lagoon. "A south-easter is the only wind likely to trouble us," observed Villiers. "The reef will keep a lot of the sea down, but it's so low that there's bound to be a fairly-heavy tumble." "What sort of bottom have we?" asked Harborough. "Mud and pieces of coral rock," replied Villiers. "If the wreck's anywhere about we'll find the water pretty muddy. But it's good holding ground. The sandy part of the lagoon is clear enough, but I wouldn't care to trust the fluke of an anchor in it." "Let's hope the wreck is on a sandy bottom," rejoined Harborough. "However, that remains to be proved. We'll breach that case of champagne now, lads; after that it's general leave ashore. There'll be time for a stretch before sunset." This programme was duly carried out. The boats were lowered and armed merely on the principle that it was wise to take precautions--and with the exception of Merridew, who volunteered as ship-keeper, all hands landed on the sandy beach. "Look at that young brother of yours!" remarked Trevear, drawing Bobby's attention to Dick's rolling gait. "The champagne's got into his upper story." "He didn't have any," declared Bobby; then, overtaking his erratically-moving relative, he asked: "What's the matter, Dick?" "Matter?" echoed the lad. "Wish I knew, Bobby. The ground's coming up to meet me every step I take." "Merely the effect of being so long on board," explained Villiers. "I've felt the same sort of thing myself. Now, Dick, I'll race you to that tree. A coco-nut for the winner, and the loser's got to find it. Ready? Go!" Dick won by a yard, and breathlessly he watched the agile Villiers swarm up a young palm until he reached the cluster of broad-leaved foliage at the top.