TO THE LIGHTHOUSEto himself, But why make a fuss about that?Naturally men are drowned in a storm, but it is aperfectly straightforward affair, and the depths ofthe sea (he sprinkled the crumbs from his sandwichpaper over them) are only water after all. Thenhaving lighted his pipe he took out his watch. Helooked at it attentively; he made, perhaps, somemathematical calculation. At last he said, trium-phantly:

“Well done!" James had steered them like a bornsailor.

There! Cam thought, addressing herself silentlyto James. You’ve got it at last. For she knew that thiswas what James had been wanting, and she knewthat now he had got it he was so pleased that hewould not look at her or at his father or at any one.There he sat with his hand on the tiller sitting boltupright, looking rather sulky and frowning slightly.He was so pleased that he was not going to let any-body share a grain of his pleasure. His father hadpraised him. They must think that he was perfectlyindifferent. But you’ve got it now, Cam thought.

They had tacked, and they were sailing swiftly,buoyantly on long rocking waves which handedthem on from one to another with an extraordinarylilt and exhilaration beside the reef. On the left arow of rocks showed brown through the water which306
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