It did not take long to get the six-inch hawser from the _Boxer_ to the _Diomeda_, where the end was bent round the yacht's mainmast close to the deck and securely stopped to the gammoning-iron. The bowsprit had already been run in, so as not to have the risk of its being snapped off by the tow rope in the broken waters of the North Sea.
The ropes that held the _Diomeda_ to the quay were cast off, the destroyer's propellers began to churn twin columns of white foam, and the hawser slowly tautened.
As the _Boxer_ and her tow glided away from the wharf the usually phlegmatic Dutchmen raised a cheer, which compliment Smith and Stirling returned by raising their caps. Then, with the speed increased to ten knots, the _Diomeda_ followed in the wake of the British destroyer, homeward bound. As soon as the two craft were outside the Dollart the scope of the towing hawser was considerably increased. Nevertheless the _Diomeda_ pitched and strained in a manner that caused Smith grave misgivings.
Although there was little wind there was a long, heavy swell that presaged a strong breeze, if not a gale, before many hours had passed.
At sunset Smith placed the red and green navigation lights in position, satisfied himself that the hawser was not being chafed by the stemhead, and, having given the tiller into his companion's charge, went below to prepare supper.
Five minutes later he was up on deck again.
"Blessed if I can stick down below," he remarked. "I never felt so much like being seasick in my life. The motion is too rotten for words. It will mean an all-night watch on deck. Of course if you care to go below you can."
"Thanks, I'd rather not," replied Stirling, realizing that he stood little chance against the attacks of _mal de mer_ when Smith had been forced to admit defeat.
"Very well. I'll hand up the oilskins. There's a stiff breeze piping up already."
With alarming rapidity the wind increased, blowing two points abaft the beam to starboard. At midnight it was half a gale. In spite of the speed of the towed yacht crested waves repeatedly broke inboard, till the cockpit was frequently filled with water almost to the level of the seat on the port side.
"Hang on to that lamp," shouted Smith, who had taken Stirling's place at the helm. "We may want it. I wish they would slow down; this pace is a jolly sight too hot."