Look what a sea is breaking on the shingles!"
"Yes, five minutes there would knock her into matchwood. Another
ten minutes and we shall be fairly out; and I shan't be sorry;
one feels as if one was playing football, only just at present the
Seabird is the ball and the waves the kickers."
Another quarter of an hour and they had passed the Needles.
"That is more pleasant, Jack," as the short, chopping motion was
exchanged for a regular rise and fall; "this is what I enjoy--a
steady wind and a regular sea. The Seabird goes over it like one
of her namesakes; she is not taking a teacupful now over her bows.
"Watkins, you may as well take the helm for a spell, while we go
down to lunch. I am not sorry to give it up for a bit, for it has
been jerking like the kick of a horse.
"That's right, Jack, hang up your oilskin there. Johnson, give us
a couple of towels; we have been pretty well smothered up there on
deck. Now what have you got for us?"
"There is some soup ready, sir, and that cold pie you had for dinner
yesterday."
"That will do; open a couple of bottles of stout."
Lunch over, they went on deck again.
"She likes a good blow as well as we do," Virtue said enthusiastically,
as the yawl rose lightly over each wave. "What do you think of it,
Watkins? Is the wind going to lull a bit as the sun goes down?"
"I think not, sir.
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