Instead of abating, the wind appeared each moment to increase in force.

Clouds of spray were blown on the top of the waves, so that at times Archie could not see the shore before him.

For nearly half an hour the fishermen struggled on, but Archie saw with dismay that the boat was receding from the shore, and that they had already lost the distance they had gained before the squall struck them.

The old fisherman looked several times over his shoulder.
"It is of no use," he said at last; "we shall never make Rathlin, and must even run before the gale.

Put up the helm, young sir, and take her round.