Near by,
Hermosa showed low its white surface as flat as a table, with the slight
run of the sea raised by the breeze washing over its edges noisily. The
lighter must be sunk at once.
He allowed her to drift with her sail aback. There was already a good
deal of water in her. He allowed her to drift towards the harbour
entrance, and, letting the tiller swing about, squatted down and
busied himself in loosening the plug. With that out she would fill very
quickly, and every lighter carried a little iron ballast--enough to make
her go down when full of water. When he stood up again the noisy wash
about the Hermosa sounded far away, almost inaudible; and already he
could make out the shape of land about the harbour entrance. This was a
desperate affair, and he was a good swimmer. A mile was nothing to him,
and he knew of an easy place for landing just below the earthworks of
the old abandoned fort. It occurred to him with a peculiar fascination
that this fort was a good place in which to sleep the day through after
so many sleepless nights.
With one blow of the tiller he unshipped for the purpose, he knocked the
plug out, but did not take the trouble to lower the sail.
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