high quarterdeck raised his cap; they steamed on.

In due course of time they reached the Nore lightship, and there they
lay and drifted about until the yachts should come up. Long distances
now separated that summer fleet; but as they came along, lying well over
before the brisk breeze, it was obvious that the spaces of time between
the combatants Would not be great. And is not this Miss White's vessel,
the favorite in the betting, that comes sheering through the water, with
white foam at her bows? Surely she is more than her time allowance
ahead? And on this tack will she get clear round the ruddy little
lightship, or is there not a danger of her carrying off a bowsprit? With
what an ease and majesty she comes along, scarcely dipping to the slight
summer waves, while they on board notice that she has put out her long
spinnaker boom, ready to hoist a great ballooner as soon as she is round
the lightship and running home before the wind. The speed at which she
cuts the water is now visible enough as she obscures for a second or so
the hull of the lightship. In another second she has sheered round; and
then the great spinnaker bulges out with the breeze, and away she goes
up the river again. Chronometers are in request. It is only a matter of
fifty seconds that the nearest rival, now coming sweeping along, has to
make up. But what is this that happens just as the enemy has got round
the Nore? There is a cry of "Man overboard!" The spinnaker boom has
caught the careless skipper and pitched him clean into the plashing
waters, where he floats about, not as yet certain, probably, what course
his vessel will take. She at once brings her head up to wind and puts
about; but meanwhile a small boat from the lightship has picked up the
unhappy skipper, and is now pulling hard to strike the course of the
yacht on her new tack. In another minute or two he is on board again;
and away she goes for home.