“Ready,” she said.
“Cast off,” said the captain, and a moment later Swallow was moving.
“Are we going to the island?” asked the boy.
“No,” said mother. “It would take too long to go there and back. There’s a lot to be done if you are to start tomorrow morning. Just sail her a little way up against the wind, and then we must run back to deal with haybags and stores, and all the other things you’ll want for the voyage.”
So Swallow ’s trial trip was a short one. John sailed her up against the wind, tacking from side to side, and making a little every time, just as Roger had done when he had tacked up the field the day before. Then they turned round for the run home, and raced back with the water creaming round her.
“Your ship is all right, Captain John,” said mother, when they were once more moored to the jetty, and Susan and John were stowing the sail, and taking the mast down to take the Swallow into the boathouse.
“She’s a beauty,” said John.
The rest of that day was full of business. Mother was stitching haybags out of sacking. Titty had taken the little flagstaff up to the farm, and had cut a triangular flag out of some of the canvas left over from the tents. Mother had drawn a swallow on a bit of paper, and Titty had cut one out of some blue serge that had once been part of a pair of knickerbockers. Then she had put the pattern on the white flag, and cut out a place to fit it. Then she had sewn the edge of the blue swallow all the way round into the place for it in the white flag. When she had done