“There is the starting gun.  They are all close together at the line.

“That is a pretty sight, Lady Greendale.  Talk about the start of race horses, it is no more to be compared with it than light to dark.”

After cruising about for three or four hours, their schooner dropped anchor near the Osprey, which had come in half an hour before.

“Have you ever been on board the Osprey, Lord Haverley?” Bertha asked.

“No, my dear, I don’t know that I have ever before been in any port with your friend Major Mallett.”

“Well, what do you say to our going on board for a few minutes, on our way to shore?  Mamma and I are very fond of her, and I am her godmother, having christened her.”

“Godmother and curate coupled in one, eh, Bertha?  We will go by all means; that is to say, we cannot invade him in a body, but those of us who know Mallett can go on board, and the gig can come back and take the rest ashore and then come to fetch us.”

Accordingly, Lord Haverley and his daughter, Lady Greendale and Bertha, and two others of the party were rowed to the Osprey.  Frank saw them coming and met them at the gangway.

“We are taking you by storm, Major,” Lord Haverley said, “but Lady Greendale and her daughter claim an almost proprietary interest in the Osprey, because the latter is her godmother.  Indeed, we are all naturally interested in her, too, as being one of our cracks.  She is a very smart-looking craft, though I think it is a pity that she is not cutter rigged.”

“She would look prettier, no doubt,” Frank said; “but, you see, though she was built as a racer, and I like a race occasionally, that was not my primary object.  I wanted her for cruising, and there is no doubt that a yawl is more handy, and you can work her with fewer hands than you can a cutter of the same size.”

They went round the vessel, and then returning on deck, sat down and chatted while waiting for the boat’s return.

“I sincerely hope that you will win, Frank, on Friday,” Lady Greendale said.  “Our sympathies are rather divided, but I hope the Osprey will win.”

“Thank you, Lady Greendale, but I am by no means sanguine about it.

“I fancy, Miss Haverley, that you and Miss Greendale will see the winning flag flying overhead when the race is over.”

“Why do you think so, Major?” Lord Haverley asked.  “The general opinion is that your record is better than that of the Phantom.  She has done well in the two or three races she has sailed, but she certainly did not beat the Lesbia or the Mermaid by as much as you did.”

“That may be,” Frank agreed, “but I regard Carthew as having been born under a lucky star; and though my own opinion is that if the Phantom were in other hands we should beat her, I fancy his luck will pull her through.”

Haverley laughed.  “I should not have given you credit for being superstitious, Major.”