She nodded, for the wind was blowing so strongly in her face that she could not verbally answer him. The skiff swerved in toward the side of the _Fenique_. The girl tossed the lantern over the rail, seized the line, and scrambled inboard. Then she turned and threw the slack of the rope to Tobias. "Oh, sugar, Lorny!" he exclaimed, as he came aboard. "You are just as good as ary boy. I always said so. And if you can handle this motor——" "I can, Tobias. I assure you." "Wal, like the feller said, I’m willing to try anything once. We’ll make some sort of a stab at getting under way. It all depends on you, my girl." Lorna made no reply. While the lightkeeper tied the painter of the skiff to the mooring buoy, she undertook to get the cover off the machinery. She was shaking with nervousness, but she would not betray this fact to her companion. The whipping of the wind almost tore the canvas from her hands when she had it unlashed. At another time Lorna Nicholet might have let the heavy, wet cloth go overboard. But she was on her mettle now. Her experiences afloat heretofore had been mostly in sport. On a few occasions (for instance, when she and Degger had come near to death in Tobias’s dory and Ralph had rescued them) the girl had experienced the seamy side of boat-sailing. But she quite realized that nothing she had previously faced had equaled the present peril. "We’ve got to fill her tank. I know Ralph didn’t leave much gas aboard here," the lightkeeper shouted. "Now, lemme do that first. Then you can show me how to spin that wheel. Say, Lorna, you cast off the canvas of the steering gear. My soul and body! but you be a handy gal. That’s it, now." The boat was pitching greatly; but Tobias seemed as secure of his footing as though he were on shore. Once Lorna was flung across the cockpit and collided painfully with the bench; but she made no outcry. This was a moment of desperation. Tobias faced the coming conflict with the elements as though utterly undisturbed by what the venture might bring forth. Fear of events seemed not to enter into his thought. But Lorna could not appear so calm. Just ahead of them, when she and the old lightkeeper steered out into the open bay, death rode on the gale. The motor hummed rhythmically. Tobias stood at the steering wheel amidships, holding the spokes with iron hand, while Lorna crouched almost at his feet. They had not attempted to light any running lights. Collision with any other craft after they got out of the cove was the last thing to be apprehended. Tobias’s lantern was beside the girl in the cockpit. The old man’s vision seemed to penetrate the darkness and driving spindrift as though he were argus-eyed. In Lorna’s stooping position she could see nothing ahead. When she cast her gaze astern all she beheld was the foaming wake left by the propeller. Such an angry welter of sea she had never before been out in.