CHAPTER XI.
FLIGHT.
The sails drew as we got the anchor on board; and by the time O.P.
and I had done sluicing the hawser clean of the mud it brought up, we were working down the Hamoaze with a light and baffling wind, but carrying a strong tide under us.

Evening fell with a warm yellow haze: the banks slipping past us grew dim and dimmer: here and there a light shone among the long-shore houses.

I felt more confident, and no longer concealed myself as we tacked under the sterns of the great ships at anchor or put about when close alongside.
As we cleared Devil's Point and had our first glimpse of the grey line where night was fast closing down on open sea, I noted a certain relaxation in Mr.Pengelly, as if he too had been feeling the strain.
He began to chat with me.

The wind, he said, was backing and we might look for this spell of weather to break up before long.
Once past the Rame we should be right as ninepence and might run down the coast on a soldier's wind: it would stiffen a bit out yonder unless he was mistaken.

He pulled out his pipe and lit it.
Aft loomed the bulk of Mrs.Pengelly at the wheel.