“Mine’s in my pocket,” said Susan.
“I’ve got mine,” said the boy, “but I can’t get at it. It’s in the pocket of my underneath shirt.”
“Never mind,” said Captain John. “We’ll get it out when we want it. Then there’s the telescope.”
“Oughtn’t I to have the telescope, keeping watch?” said Titty.
John thought for a moment.
“Yes,” he said, “I think you ought.” He handed it over. He took a last look over the ship. “All aboard,” he said, and the mate and the boy climbed in and went to the stern. The captain pushed, and as the Swallow floated off he set a knee on her bows and a moment later was busy with the sail. “You won’t forget about the lights, Titty,” he called. “Everything may depend on them if it’s very dark. Lighthouse soon after dusk, and then when you hear us make owl calls, light the candle-lanterns on the harbour marks.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Titty. “Swallows forever.”
In another minute John hoisted up the sail and made fast. He hauled down the boom till the crinkle ran up the sail instead of across it. He made that fast too. They drifted out of the lee of the island. Then the wind caught them. With this fair wind the whole crew of the Swallow sat together in the stern. The mate was steering. The boom was well out on the starboard side, and the little ship with her brown sail slipped swiftly away in the sunshine.
“Hurrah,” shouted Titty, running up to the lookout place, and standing under the tree that was now a lighthouse.
“Hurrah, hurrah,” came back over the water from the Swallow .