The Butterflies clapped their hands vigorously, in token of their
approbation of the pledge, and Tony promised the same thing for his
club.

"Now we are ready," added Frank. "Keep perfectly cool, and mind all I
have said. Ready!"

Uncle Ben stood in the bow of the Sylph, with a burning slow match in
his hand, ready to discharge the cannon which was to be the signal for
starting. It was a moment of intense excitement, not only to the crews
of the boats, but to hundreds of spectators on the shore.

It was undeniably true that the Zephyrs, in spite of the warnings which
Frank had given them, were very much excited, and various were the
expedients which the boys used to calm their agitation, or at least to
conceal it. But it was also true that the Butterflies were much more
excited. Discipline and experience had not schooled them in the art of
"being mere machines," and they found it much more difficult than the
Zephyrs to subdue their troublesome emotions.

The eventful moment had come. The oarsmen were bent forward ready to
strike the first stroke, and the coxswains were leaning back ready to
time the movement. Captain Sedley was gazing intently at the dial of his
"second indicator," prepared to give Uncle Ben the word to fire.

"Ready, Ben--fire!"

Bang! went the cannon.