CHAPTER IX.
MISS FREGELIUS While Miss Fregelius was speaking, Morris had been staring at the sail, which, after drawing for a time in an indifferent fashion, had begun to flap aimlessly.
"What is the matter ?" asked his companion.

"Has the wind veered again ?" He nodded.

"Dead from the west, now, and rising fast.

I hope that your spirit of prophecy still speaks smooth things, for, upon my word, I believe we are both of us in a worse mess than ever." "Can't we row ashore?
It is only a few miles, is it ?" "We can try, but I am afraid we are in for a regular tearer.

We get them sometimes on this coast after a spell of calm weather." "Please give me an oar," she said.