"'What about the other anchor?' I suggested.

"' Try it if you like,' said he. 'In my belief it won't hold any
more than a tin mustard-pot.'

"Nor did it, when we let go. He came back after a few minutes from
the darkness forward. 'No go,' said he. 'Nothing to do but slip and
clear.'

"There was no question, either, that he spoke sense. 'But where?' I
shouted at him. 'Drake's Island? . . . And who's to do it, even so?'

"'The anchorage is crowded under Drake's Island,' he shouted back.
'It's the devil-among-the-tailors we'd play there, if we ever
fetched. . . . Breakwater's no shelter either.'

"He seemed to whistle to himself for a moment; and the next I heard
him yell out sharply to the boys forward to tumble on the mainsail,
strip her covers off, double-reef and hoist her. He took command
from that moment. While a score of them flew to tackle this job, he
beat his way forward and called on another lot to get out the
staysail. Back he ran again, cursing and calling on all and sundry
to look smart. Next he was at my side ordering me to unlash the
wheel and stand by. 'It's touch-and-go, sir.'

"'Hadn't we better send up a flare?' I suggested feebly.

"'Flare your bloomin' grandmother!' From this moment I regret to say
that Link Andrew treated me with contempt. He next ordered a dozen