Too fast: take in a bit of canvas." Vince did not speak for a few moments, but gazed from the sail to the surface of the smooth sea and back again two or three times.
"'Tisn't the sail that carries us along so," he said at last; "she only just fills, and hardly pulls at the sheet at all.

Ladle, old chap, we're in a current that's carding us along at a tremendous rate." Mike looked at him in alarm, but Vince went on coolly.
"There's nothing to mind, so long as we keep a sharp look-out for rocks.
The old boat would crush up like an egg if she went on one now.

Here, Ladle, quick! Look there!" "What at ?" "The rocks.

I mean the cliffs.

Ah! port! port!--quick." Mike obeyed, and none too soon, for as Vince was calling his attention to the shape of the cliffs ashore, a rough, sharp pinnacle of rock rose some ten feet out of the water just in front, with others to right and left, and the boat just cleared the principal danger by gliding through a narrow opening and then racing on upon the other side.
Here they found rock after rock standing out, some as much as twenty feet, whitened by the sea-birds, while others were just level with the surface and washed by foam.
The way was literally strewn with dangers, and prudence suggested lowering the sail; but prudence was wrong--quick sailing was the only way to safety, so that they might have speed enough to insure good steering in the rapid current.
"We must keep on going," said Vince, "or we shall be on the rocks, as sure as we live.