“I’m confident,” said Bart, “that it’s somewhere along this coast; for it seems to me, as near as I can remember, that this is the coast we sailed to. Look at the Five Islands. There’s O’Rafferty’s; and there are the others. You see we came out from this side of O’Rafferty’s, and then sailed up somewhere along there. I think, when we get nearer, we’ll see an opening; and perhaps we’ll hit the cove itself.” The others seemed impressed by Bart’s words; and as none of them had anything better to suggest, they said nothing. And now the wind blew still more freshly, and Bart looked around with dismay. On went the schooner; but the long line of coast showed no opening whatever, and he had no idea what to do to extricate himself from the position in which he was. What made it worse was the confidence which all now felt in him.. He felt that the end would come--the moment when he would stand revealed in his true colors, and lose his prestige forever. More freshly still blew the wind, and the sea around rose higher, tossing up now into white-capped waves, which every little while dashed over the bows and scattered their spray about the decks. Yielding to the wind, the vessel lay over; and on she scudded, dashing through the water in a style which excited all on board, and intoxicated them with delight. “Hurrah!” cried Bruce. “Boys, isn’t this glorious?” “Glorious!” cried the boys; and some of them swung by their hands from the rigging, and others danced about the deck, shouting as each wave came splashing over the bows, and roaring with laughter when any one got a ducking. Hurrah! and Hurrah again!--and yet again! Their wild mirth only added new anguish to the dismay of poor Bart, who found himself now face to face with an inextricable problem. In their last stretch across from the Five Islands, they had drawn near to the main land, and were now moving nearer and nearer every moment. What was to be done? It was already time to turn; but where could he turn, or where would he go when he did turn? or, for that matter, how could he venture to turn at all? His last experience in turning the schooner had filled him with despair. What was the meaning of those kickings, and flappings, and jumpings? What was the reason that she didn’t mind her rudder at all? And now the wind was stronger, and the sea was rougher. Could he venture to turn the vessel with such a wind and such a sea? He felt that he could not. Anything would be better. So he thought while taking counsel with his own soul.