Still they stood, steadying each other by clapping hands on shoulders, quite unconscious of the fact that the old man was now gazing at them with a very peculiar expression of countenance, that foreboded anything but good.
All at once, they both lurched and nearly fell, for Daygo's mind was made up, and he thrust his oar deep down, changing the boat's course suddenly, and making the sail flap.
"Here, what are you doing ?" cried Vince, forced by this to speak to the old man at last.
"Think I want to run my boat into that curran' an' get on the rocks?
Sit down, will you, and keep outer the way of the sheet." For answer the boys went forward, quite out of his way, and the boat rushed on again for some ten minutes before they spoke again, though they had been looking about with gathering uneasiness, for they were growing suspicious, but ashamed to speak because the idea seemed to be absurd.
At last Vince said-- "He's making a precious long tack, Mike, and I don't know of any big current here." Mike was silent, and they saw now that without doubt they were sailing right away from the island, and were in the full race of the tide.
Still they felt that the old man must know best how to make for his tiny port, and they sat in silence for fully twenty minutes, waiting for him to make another tack and run back.
But soon the suspicions both felt had grown into a certainty, and Mike said in a whisper, as calmly as he could,-- "Cinder, he has got the conger bat out of the locker.

What does he mean ?" "He means that he won't take us ashore," said Vince huskily: "he's going to sail right away with us for fear we should tell about him, and the conger bat's to frighten us and keep us quiet." There was a strange look of agony in Mike Ladelle's eyes, as he gazed in his companion's, to read there a horror quite as deep.

Then neither of them spoke, but sat there listening to the lapping of the water, which spread to right and left in two lines of foam as the little boat sped on.
It was Vince who broke the silence at last, after drawing a deep breath.
"Ladle, old chap," he said, in a low voice, "they're at home yonder, and it means perhaps never seeing them again.

What shall we do ?" Mike tried to speak, but his voice was too husky to be heard for a few moments.
"I'll do what you do," he said at last.
"You'll stand by me, whatever comes ?" "Yes." Vince glanced sidewise, to find that they were pretty well hidden by the sail; so he thrust out his hand, which was gripped fast, and the two boys sat there with throbbing hearts, trying to nerve themselves for anything that might happen now.
Then, without a word, Vince rose, and, steadying himself by the mast, he stepped over the thwart in which it was stepped, and then on to the next, close to where the old man sat steering right astern, and holding the sheet of the well-filled sail as well.
"This is not the way to the Crag," said Vince, with his voice trembling slightly; and the old man grunted.
"Where are you making for ?" said Vince, firmly now.
"Didn't I tell yer I didn't want to get run on the rocks ?" roared the old man, unnecessarily loudly, after a glance back at the shore, where all was growing distant and dim.
"Yes, you told me so; but it isn't true," said Vince, in a voice he did not know for his own.
"What ?" roared Daygo fiercely.
"You heard what I said.

Run her up in the wind at once, and go back." "You go and sit down," growled the old man savagely.
"You change her course," said Vince firmly.
"You go and sit down while you're safe," growled the old man, with his face twitching.
"You had orders from the commander of the cutter to take us ashore.
Change the boat's course directly." "Will you go and sit down, both of you ?" cried the old man again, more fiercely, but his voice was lower and deeper.
"No," said Mike; "and if you won't steer for the Crag, I will." "This here's my boat, and I'll steer how I like, and nobody else shan't touch her." "Your orders from the King's officer were to take us home.