Chapter 27

DORY DORNWOOD MANOEUVRES TO ESCAPE.

"What are you about, Theodore?" shouted Captain Gildrock, as the Goldwing shot away, heeled down to her gunwale under the blast of the strong wind. "Come about, and run her on the beach."

Dory took no notice of this direction, but grasped the tiller with all his might; and with the short stick it was all he could do to hold her. He dropped the centre-board, and stood to the eastward, evidently to avoid the steam-yacht, which was now giving an occasional turn to her screw to avoid being driven out into the Gut. The starboard quarter-boat had just put the detective and his prisoner on board of her.

Captain Gildrock had put the other boat about; and the four oarsmen were straining their muscles, pulling in the direction the schooner had taken. Mr. Jepson saw what was going on; and, as soon as he had disposed of his passengers, he started his boat to the eastward, with the intention of cutting off the Goldwing as she came out of the bay.

The sky was obscured by piles of angry-looking clouds, and every thing looked like a southerly storm. The sun was now not more than half an hour high, but there would be about an hour more of daylight. The Goldwing was making at least eight miles an hour, and Dory was satisfied that Captain Gildrock's boat could not overtake him. He had headed it to the north-east, so as to take the shortest course; for the Goldwing must soon go to the north, or she would run ashore.

As soon as Dory noticed the change in the course of his uncle's boat, he began to haul in his sheets; for he saw that he was giving the boat the advantage of him, though it was not likely to gain enough to enable it to overhaul the schooner. The port boat was the only one from which he expected any interference. The skipper measured the distances very carefully with his eye. He calculated that he had to make half a mile to reach the point where the starboard boat would intercept him, if at all. Mr. Jepson's boat had to get over at least three-quarters of this distance.

Dory thought his chances were very good. At any rate, he determined to keep on his present course until he found himself mistaken. The Goldwing was tearing through the water at a tremendous rate. Since his passengers left her, she was trimmed down at the stern too much; but this did not interfere with her speed while she had a free wind.

The tiller was a great strain upon him, and it took all his strength to prevent the boat from coming up into the wind. There was certainly nothing like a lee helm in her present condition. As the wind increased in force the farther out he went from the sheltering shore, he was afraid he should not be able to hold her up to her course. If he let her broach to, and spilled the sails, he must certainly lose the race.

Taking the end of the sheet, which was considerably longer than was required, he took a turn with it around the end of the tiller. In this manner he was able to take the strain off his muscles in holding the boat; but at every gust of wind he had to put his helm up, and then let it off. He wanted the long tiller, but he could not leave the helm for a moment to get it.

The Goldwing occasionally dipped up the water over her lee wash-board; and, when she did this, it was necessary to "touch her up," or let her eat into the wind, as she would do if left to herself. The skipper was doing some bold and risky sailing, but he was determined to keep out of his uncle's hands if it were possible. He watched the starboard boat with the most intense interest. He had made up his mind that he had little to fear from her, even if she reached the point where the two courses of the boats met.

If Mr. Jepson put his boat in the course of the schooner, Dory did not see how he could help running over her. The collision would smash the quarter-boat, for it would strike her on the beam; while the schooner was not likely to be greatly harmed. She would strike with her bow, where she was least liable to injury.

As Dory continued on his course, he was satisfied that he was greatly outsailing the boat from which he expected trouble, if he had any. The water was getting rough, which impeded the speed of the quarter-boat, while it did not diminish that of the schooner. Five minutes later he was sure Mr. Jepson's boat would fall astern of him. He was confident of it, but he did not relax his care. The officer was urging his crew to increased exertions, but the oarsmen were evidently doing all they could.

The two craft were rapidly approaching each other. Dory realized that he should not have more than a boat's length to spare, but that was as good as a mile. He tried to keep cool, as his father had often told him he must do when there was any danger in a boat. His heart was in his mouth, and he tried in vain to swallow it; but it seemed to be too big for his throat.

"Hold on, Theodore!" shouted Mr. Jepson, when the two boats came within twenty feet of each other. "Your uncle wants you, and he won't do you any harm."

Dory kept his eyes on the sails of the Goldwing, and made no reply. He was not afraid that his uncle would hurt him. If this had been all, he would not have run away from him,--at least not before the danger menaced him.

"Hold on, Theodore!" repeated the officer of the starboard boat.

But Dory hauled the tiller up, and kept the sails full, though sundry buckets of water poured over the wash-board into the standing-room at this moment. The Goldwing dashed madly on her course, and the skipper did not even ease her off at this most exciting moment of the chase.

"Hold on! You will surely upset that boat," cried Mr. Jepson, who was no doubt greatly concerned about the fate of the boy who was doing this reckless sailing.

The moment of doubt on the part of the skipper had passed. The stern of the schooner was abreast of the bow of the quarter-boat, and her mission was a failure. Dory had cleared both of the boats; and now he had to contend with the steamer, if with any thing. She could follow him in perfect safety wherever he went. He could not outsail her; and, if he accomplished any thing more, he must get out of her way before she could pick up her boats, and get under way again.

The Sylph could not run into the shoal water where the boats were; and the crews would have to pull back to her against the strong wind, which amounted to half a gale. It was not more than half as bad as it was the day he crossed the lake with a reefed mainsail, and the bonnet off the jib; but then he was not on the open lake, where he could get the full benefit of all that was blowing.

Dory did not wait to see how long it would take for the steam-yacht to pick up her boats, or to see what she was going to do next. He held on his course to the north-east; and ten minutes more, at his present rate of speed, would take him through Eastern Cut into the eastern arm of the lake. He went to the southward and eastward of the red buoy. After he had passed it, he stole a glance at the Sylph. Her boats were close aboard of her, but she had not yet hoisted them up to the davits. When he had made his next mile, and the Goldwing was off Ladd's Point, he could not see her. He was confident that he was two miles ahead of her.

The schooner was under the lee of the Point; and Dory decided that he must, at all hazards, trim the boat, and get out the long tiller. The fifty-sixes which had been moved had not been put under the floor, and he got them ready for a hasty change of position. At a favorable moment he dropped the tiller into the comb well up, and rushed forward with one of the weights. He put it in its proper place, and then attended to the helm until the boat was again in condition to take care of herself for a moment.

By watching his opportunities, he conveyed the rest of the surplus ballast forward; and the schooner was again in good trim. With no little difficulty he removed the short tiller, and inserted the long one in its place in the rudder-head. Though he still used the tiller-rope he had brought into service, it was comparatively easy to steer the boat. He could now work her quicker than before, and more effectually counteract the sharp gusts of wind.

The Goldwing was now out of the Gut; and this arm of the lake, near the channel, between the two great islands, was from three to five miles wide. But she was now under the lee of the west shore, and she would not get the full strength of the blast until she had gone about two miles farther.

By this time Dory had fully made up his mind what to do. His programme for avoiding the Sylph was made out. His natural pride would not permit him to fall into his uncle's hands if it was possible, even at no little risk, to avoid such a catastrophe. He had ceased to wonder what his uncle wanted of him. Captain Gildrock had heard bad stories about him, and he seemed to be prepared to believe them all. He thought it probable that his uncle had heard of his discharge from the steamer, and very likely he had found a place for him. But he did not want his uncle to assist him. This was all he could surmise in regard to the present chase.

To the eastward of the Gut was St. Alban's Bay, which extended about three miles into the land, on the Vermont side of the lake. At the northerly entrance to this bay were three islands. Potter's Island, the largest of them, was over a mile in length. South-west of it, and about half a mile distant, was Ball Island. This island was three miles from Ladd's Point, off which the Goldwing was running with the wind on her beam.

Dory had decided to run across the lake in the direction of Ball Island. He intended to bring into use the tactics which had enabled him to beat the Missisquoi, though he did not expect her pilot to run her aground in any attempt to follow the schooner into shoal water. As well as he could estimate the speed of the Goldwing, she could make two miles to the steamer's three. He had two miles the start of her. When he reached Ball Island the steamer would be half a mile behind him.

Between Potter's and Ball Island the water was shoal, and the bottom rocky. At the ordinary stage of the water, it was from eight to thirteen feet deep; but now it was only from two to seven feet deep. The Sylph would not dare to go through the opening, while Dory was sure of seven feet near the larger island. He had his plan arranged for another movement after this one; but he desired to see how the first scheme worked before he gave much consideration to a second.

Beyond these islands the wind had a rake of five miles, and the roughest water and the heaviest wind must be met after he had passed them. He was not sure that the Goldwing could stand it. Before he was half way across the lake he found she had all she could stand under. But he determined to put her through, keeping out of trouble by letting off the sheet, and touching her up, as occasion might require. He cast frequent glances behind him, to obtain the earliest knowledge of the approach of the Sylph. He was less than half a mile from the southern point of the large island, and she could not yet be seen.

The skipper wondered if she had not given up the chase.