Before our bath was ended a slight change had come over the sky and
sea; fleecy-white clouds scudded here and there, and a muffled moan
from the breakers caught our ears from time to time. While we were
dressing, a few hurried drops of rain came lisping down, and we
adjourned to the tent to wait the passing of the squall.

"We're all right, anyhow," said Phil Adams. "It won't be much of a
blow, and we'll be as snug as a bug in a rug, here in the tent,
particularly if we have that lemonade which some of you fellows
were going to make.

By an oversight, the lemons had been left in the boat. Binny
Wallace volunteered to go for them.

"Put an extra stone on the painter, Binny," said Adams, calling
after him; "it would be awkward to have the Dolphin give us the
slip and return to port minus her passengers."

"That it would," answered Binny, scrambling down the rocks.

Sandpeep Island is diamond-shaped--one point running out into the
sea, and the other looking towards the town. Our tent was on the
river-side. Though the Dolphin was also on the same side, she lay
out of sight by the beach at the farther extremity of the island.

Binny Wallace had been absent five or six minutes when we heard him
calling our several names in tones that indicated distress or
surprise, we could not tell which. Our first thought was, "The boat
has broken adrift!"