The children were so afraid that their mother really would forbid them to go that they said not a word more. They turned on their sides and fell asleep.

At six o'clock all three — were dressing hurriedly. It was a magnificent day. The eastern sky was glowing red at dawn, and was now pink and gold. The sun was already warm on their faces as they looked out of the little cottage window.

Their mother was awake. The children kissed her good-bye and ran down the rocky path to the beach. Andy was already there—but to the children's surprise he looked rather grave.

"I'm thinking we shouldn't go," he said, as soon as he saw the children.

"Andy! Whatever do you mean?" they cried.

"Maybe you didn't see the sky this morning?" said Andy. "It was as red as the geranium in our window. It was a right queer sky—and I'm thinking a storm will blow up to-day or to-morrow."

"Oh, don't be such a spoil-sport, Andy," said Tom. climbing into the boat. "What does a storm matter? We'll be on the island before it comes—and if one comes to-morrow we can wait another day on the island. We've plenty of food."

"If my father hadn't gone out in my uncle's ship to fish, I think he'd be stopping us from going," said Andy doubtfully, "But maybe the storm will blow off to the east. Get in, then. I'm glad to see you've got your jerseys on. If the wind blows up, we'll be cold tonight."

"I've got my bathing-suit on underneath," said Jill. "So have the others. Come on, Andy—push off. I'm simply longing to go!"

Andy pushed off. The boat grated over the stones, and then rode into the waves. Andy jumped in lightly. He and Tom took the oars. They did not mean to put up the sail till they came out of the bay into the full sea.

It was a marvellous morning. The sea was full of sparkles and twinkles—it was blue and purple at a distance, clear green by the boat. Mary let her hand drag in the cool water. She was very happy. Jill was happy too. She lay on her back in the boat, looking up at the cornflower-blue sky, feeling the boat bobbing up and down on the waves.

Tom was happy too. He loved to pull at the oars. He enjoyed thinking of his breakfast, and planned what he would have.

Only Andy was not happy. He felt in his bones that he should not have taken the children out that morning, He felt sure this was not going to be the wonderful day they had planned. He wished his father had been there to advise him and he anxiously watched the sky for clouds But there was not one to be seen.

"Now we're really off on our adventure," said Jill. "Really off!"

But she didn't know what an extraordinary adventure it was going to be!

Chapter 2

Lost in the Storm

As soon as the boat was clear of the bay Andy put up the sail. It was a pretty brown one, like the sails of all the other fishing-boats of the village. It billowed out in the breeze, and the boat sped along. The boys shipped the oars.

"I'll steer," said Tom, and he took the tiller. The sail flapped, and spray flew up from under the bows of the boat. It was lovely.

"We go north-east," said Andy. "Can you steer by the sun, Tom?"

"Of course," said Tom, who had learnt to tell ti?e time almost to the half-hour by looking to see exactly where the sun was. "I'm going right, aren't I, Andy? And I make it about half-past seven by the sun."

"It's twenty-past seven," said Jill, looking at her watch. She whispered something to Mary, who giggled.

"What are you giggling at?" asked Tom.

"Tell you in a minute," said Jill. The boat flew on over the green water, and the spray whipped off the sea, and fell cool and silvery on the children.

"Golly!" said Tom, in half a minute. "I am hungry. What time are we going to have breakfast?"

The twins burst into squeals of laughter. "That's what we whispered about just now!" said Jill. "I said to Mary "I guess the next thing Tom says will be that he's hungry and what about breakfast." And sure enough you did."

Tom laughed. "Well, I guess you feel the same," he said. "Go on down into the little cabin and see what you can get for our breakfast. Andy and I are busy."

The girls went into the tiny cabin, which was crammed full of then- food and other belongings. "What shall we have for breakfast?" said Jill. "What about pine-apple chunks—and these hard-boiled eggs Mrs. Andrews did for us yesterday evening—and some Nestle's milk—and chocolate?"

It was a most peculiar breakfast, but the four children thought it was lovely. They had three loaves of bread with them, and some butter, and they dabbed the butter on to chunks of bread, took the eggs in then-hand and bit first at the egg and then at the bread. Jill put a paper of salt down on the deck for them to dip the eggs into.

"Fathead!" said Tom, as the wind promptly blew away paper, salt, and all. "As if the sea isn't salt enough already without adding more salt to it! Is there any more?"

There was some in a tin, and as this didn't blow away the children had plenty. There was fresh water in a barrel, and every orie dipped in a cup and had a drink.

"That was a fine breakfast," said Tom. "I could do with it all over again."

"I'm going to take off my jersey and skirt," said Jill. Tin simply cooking!"

"So am I," said Mary. The boys felt hot too, for the sun was now pouring down fiercely. Tom took off his jersey, but Andy didn't remove his. He always kept this on, whatever the weather was.

"This is simply gorgeous," said Jill, lying on a rug on the deck, feeling the spray splash on her hot face and arms every now and again. "How I do love to feel the boat bobbing up and down, up and down all the time! Can I have a turn at the tiller soon, Tom?"

"Everybody can," said Tom. "It's a grand feeling to Sit here and guide the flying boat. How the wind is getting up! The sail is billowing out like the wings of a bird."

The sailing-boat simply flew over the water. "We shall be at Little Island before three o'clock if we go on like this," said Andy.

"I'm so hot in the sun," said Jill. She was sheltered where she lay, and felt hardly any wind. "I wish I could be dragged behind the boat on a rope, in the cool water."

The morning slid on. The sun rose higher and higher and at noon it was so hot that every one put on sun-hats. The wind was still strong and whipped the tops from the waves as the boat flew along.

"It's past noon," said Tom. "What about.»

"A spot of lunch!" chanted every one, knowing exactly what Tom was going to say.

"I'm more thirsty than hungry," said Jill. "What are you looking worried about, Andy?"

"Queer colour the sky is getting over yonder," said Andy, nodding his head to the west.

They all looked. "It's sort of coppery," said Tom.

"There's a storm blowing up," said Andy, sniffing the air like a dog. "I can smell it."

Andy always said he could smell a storm, and he was always right. The children looked anxiously towards the west. "Shall we get to the island before it comes?" asked Jill. "A storm is all very well to read about in a book—but I don't really want to be in one out on the open sea."

"We'll do our best," said Andy. "The little boat can't go faster than she's going now. As it is the sail is almost splitting with the wind!"

The sea turned a strange colour, a kind of blue-brown. "It's caused by the reflection of that funny sky," said Jill, half nervous. "I say! It's queer being out here on the sea, miles away from land, with the sea and the sky doing odd things like this."

Then an even stranger thing happened. The wind, which had been blowing very strongly indeed, dropped completely. One moment it was blowing the children's hair straight back, as they faced the west—the next there was not a breath of air. The sea fell calm and oily. The little fishing-boat stopped running in front of the wind, and rode silently over the waves, as if she were at anchor.