Priscilla's Spies Part 21

"They're trying the pa.s.sage through Craggeen," said Priscilla, with her eyes on Flanagan's old boat "That shows they're pretty desperate. Hand me the peppermint creams. There's jolly little water there at this time of the tide. It'll be sheer luck if they get through."

"Take five or six peppermints," said Miss Rutherford, "if you feel that they'll steady your nerves. You'll want something of the sort I feel thrills down to the tips of my fingers."

Flanagan's old boat ran on. Seen from the _Tortoise_ she seemed to pa.s.s through an unbroken line of rocks. She twisted and turned now southwards, now west, now northwards. The _Tortoise_ sped after her.

"Now, Cousin Frank," said Priscilla, "get hold of the centreboard rope and haul when I tell you. There'll be barely water to float us, if there's that. We'll never get through with the centreboard down."

She headed the boat straight for a gravelly spit of land past which the tide swept in a rapid stream. A narrow pa.s.sage opened suddenly.

Priscilla put the tiller down and the _Tortoise_ swept through. A ma.s.s of floating seaweed met them. The _Tortoise_ fell off from the wind and slipped inside it. A heavy b.u.mp followed.

"Up centreboard," said Priscilla. "I knew it was shallow."

Frank pulled vigorously. Another b.u.mp followed.

"Bother!" said Priscilla. "We're done now."

The _Tortoise_ swept up into the wind Her sails flapped helplessly.

"What's the matter?" said Miss Rutherford.

"Rudder's gone," said Priscilla. "That last b.u.mp uns.h.i.+pped it."

She held the useless tiller in her hand. The rudder, swept forward by the tide, drifted away until it went ash.o.r.e on a reef at the northern end of the pa.s.sage. The _Tortoise_, after making one or two ineffective efforts to sail without a rudder, grounded on the beach of Craggeen Island. Priscilla jumped out.

"Just you two sit where you are," said said, "and don't let the boat drift. I'll run on to the point of the island and see where those spies are going to. Then we'll get the rudder again and be after them."

"Frank," said Miss Rutherford, when Priscilla had disappeared, "have you any idea how we are to keep the boat from drifting?"

"There's the anchor," said Frank.

"I don't trust that anchor a bit It's such a small one, and the boat seems to me to be in a particularly lively mood."

The _Tortoise_, her bow pressed against the gravel, appeared to be making efforts to force her way through the island. Every now and then, as if irritated by failure, she leaned heavily over to one side.

"I think," said Miss Rutherford, "I'll stand in the water and hold her till Priscilla comes back. It's not deep."

Frank's sense of chivalry would not allow him to sit dry in the boat while a lady was standing up to her ankles in water beside him. He struggled overboard and stood on one leg holding on to the gunwale of the _Tortoise_. Priscilla was to be seen on the point of the island watching Flanagan's old boat.

"Let's eat some peppermint creams," said Miss Rutherford. "They'll keep us warm."

"I'm awfully sorry about all this," said Frank. "I don't know what you'll think of us. First I run into you and then Priscilla wrecks you on this island."

"I'm enjoying myself thoroughly," said Miss Rutherford. "I wonder what will happen next. We can't go on without a rudder, can we?"

"She'll get it back. It's quite near us."

"So it is. I see it bobbing up and down against the rocks there. I think I'll go after it myself. It will be a pleasant surprise for Priscilla when she comes back to find that we've got it. Do you think you can hold the boat by yourself? She seems quieter than she was."

Miss Rutherford waded round the stern of the _Tortoise_ and set off towards the rudder. The water was not deep in any part of the channel, but there were holes here and there. When Miss Rutherford stepped into them she stood in water up to her knees. There were also slippery stones and once she staggered and very nearly fell. She saved herself by plunging one arm elbow deep in front of her. She hesitated and looked round.

"Thank goodness," she said, "here's Jimmy Kinsella coming in the other boat. He'll get the rudder."

CHAPTER XIII

Beyond the rock-strewn pa.s.sage of Craggeen lies the wide roadstead of Finilaun. Here the water is deep, and the shelter, from every quarter, almost complete. Across the western end of it stretches like a bent bow, the long island of Finilaun. On the south, reaching almost to the point of Finilaun, is Craggeen, and between the two is a shallow strait. On the east is the mainland, broken and bitten into with long creeks and bays. On the north lies a chain of islands, Ilaunure, Curraunbeg and Curraunmor, separated from each other by narrow channels, through which the tide runs strongly in and out of the roadstead.

Across the open roadstead Flanagan's old boat crept under her patched lug sail. Priscilla, standing on the sh.o.r.e of Craggeen, watched eagerly.

At first she could see the occupants of the boat quite plainly, a man at the tiller, a woman sitting forward near the mast. She had no difficulty in recognising them. The man wore the white sweater which had attracted her attention when she first saw him, a garment most unusual among boatmen in Rosnacree Bay. The woman was the same who had mopped her dripping companion with a pocket handkerchief on Inishark. They talked eagerly together. Now and then the man turned and looked back at Craggeen. The woman pointed something out to him. Priscilla understood.

They could see the patch of the _Tortoise_'s sail above the rocks which blocked the entrance of the pa.s.sage. They were no doubt wondering anxiously whether they were still pursued. Flanagan's old boat, her sail bellied pleasantly by the following wind, drew further and further away.

Priscilla could no longer distinguish the figures of the man and woman.

She watched the sail. It was evident that the boat was making for one of the three northern islands. Soon it was clear that her destination was the eastern end of Curraunbeg. Either she meant to run through the pa.s.sage between that island and Curraunmor, or the spies would land on Curraunbeg. The day was clear and bright. Priscilla's eyes were good. She saw on the eastern sh.o.r.e of Curraunbeg a white patch, distinguishable against the green background of the field. It could be nothing else but the tents of the spies' encampment. Flanagan's old boat slipped round the corner of the island and disappeared. Priscilla was satisfied. She knew where the spies had settled down.

She returned to the _Tortoise_. Frank had left the boat and was sitting on the sh.o.r.e. Miss Rutherford, with the recovered rudder on her knees, sat beside him. Jimmy Kinsella was standing in front of them apparently delivering a speech. The two boats lay side by side close to the sh.o.r.e.

"What's Jimmy jawing about?" said Priscilla.

"I'm after telling the lady," said Jimmy, "that you'll sail no more today."

"Will I not? And why?"

"You will not," said Jimmy, "because the rudder iron is broke on you."

"That's the worst of these boats," said Priscilla. "The rudder sticks down six inches below the bottom of them and if there happens to be a rock anywhere in the neighborhood it's the rudder that it's sure to hit."

"You'll excuse me saying so, Miss, but you'd no right to be trying to get through Craggeen at this time of the tide. It couldn't be done."

"It could," said Priscilla, "and, what's more, it would, only for that old rudder."

"Any way," said Jimmy; "you'll sail no more today, and it'll be lucky if you sail tomorrow for you'll have to give that rudder to Patsy, the smith, to put a new iron on it and that same Patsy isn't one that likes doing anything in a hurry."

"I'm going on to Curraunbeg," said Priscilla, "I'll steer with an oar."

"Is it steer with an oar, Miss?"

"Haven't you often done it yourself, Jimmy?"

"Not that one," said Jimmy, pointing to the _Tortoise_.

"Sure my da's said to me many's the time how that one is pretty near as giddy as yourself."

"Your da talks too much," said Priscilla. "Come on, Cousin Frank. What about you, Miss Rutherford? Are you coming?"

"You'll not go," said Jimmy, "or if you do, you'll walk."