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He slipped the mooring rope and ran the Tortoise alongside the slip, towing the water logged punt behind her. "Joseph Antony Kinsella," said Peter, "was in this morning on the flood tide and he was telling me he came across that young fellow again near Illaunglos." "Was he talking to him?" said Priscilla.
But this tearing of a heeling boat through bubbling green water became to him, when he got over the first terror of it, a delirious joy. "That's Inishminna ahead of us to windward," said Priscilla. "Flanagan lives there, who hired him the old boat. He might be there, but he isn't. I can see the whole slope of the island. We'll slip under the lee of the end of it past Illaunglos.
Frank twisted himself again into the bottom of the boat, and peeped under the sail. The north shore of Illaunglos held no tent. "Good," said Priscilla. "Well stand on The next island is Inishark. He may be there. There's a well on it, and he'd naturally want to camp somewhere within reach of water." Frank, still curled up beside the centreboard case, gazed under the sail at Inishark.
When she reached the Tortoise she found Frank pressing the last half peach on their guest. "Miss Rutherford," said Priscilla, "have you landed on Inishbawn, that island to the west of you, behind the corner of Illaunglos?" "No," she said. "I wanted to, but the boy who's rowing me strongly advised me not to." "Rats?" Said Priscilla, "or fever?" Miss Rutherford seemed puzzled by the inquiry.
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