The Sea of Adventure by Enid Blyton Read Free Book Online Page A

to eat anyway, and that, in Jack's opinion, was one of the main things to be planned for, on a holiday. People always got so terribly hungry when they were holidaying.
     
    Henty piloted them out of the harbour, his tiny boat bobbing behind. When they were beyond the harbour Henty saluted and got into his boat.
     
    "Well — good luck, sir," he said. "The wireless is O.K., sir — we'll be expecting a message regularly, to know you're all right. There are extra batteries, and a repair set as well. Good luck, sir. I'll be here in two weeks' time to pick up the kids."
     
    He rowed off, his oars making a soft plash-plash-plash in the water. He soon looked very small indeed, as Bill's motor-boat sped away.
     
    "Well — we're off!" said Bill, with great satisfaction. "And my beard can come off too — and my glasses, thank goodness. And my coat. Here, Philip, you know how to steer a motor-boat, don't you? Take the wheel whilst I make myself presentable again. No-one is likely to see me now. Keep her going north-north-west."
     
    Proudly Philip took the wheel. The engine of the boat purred smoothly, and they sped fast over the blue water. It was a wonderful day, almost as hot as summer. The May sun shone down out of a sky flecked with tiny curly clouds, and little points of light danced on the waves.
     
    "Gorgeous!" said Jack, sitting down with a grunt of joy near Philip. "Simply absolutely perfectly gorgeous."
     
    "I've got such a lovely feeling," said Lucy-Ann, looking the picture of happiness. "You know — that feeling you get at the very beginning of a lovely holiday — when all the days spread out before you, sunny and lazy and sort of enchanted."
     
    "You'll end up by being a poet if you don't look out," said Philip, from the wheel.
     
    "Well, if a poet feels like I feel just exactly at this moment, I wouldn't mind being one for the rest of my life, even if it meant having to write poetry," said Lucy-Ann.
     
    "Three blind mice, see how they run," remarked Kiki, and for one moment everyone thought that Kiki was joining in the talk about poetry, and giving what she thought was an example. But she was merely referring to the three tame rats that had suddenly appeared on Philip's shoulders. They stood there daintily, their pink noses raised, sniffing the salt sea air.
     
    "Oh, blow you, Philip!" said Dinah, from her seat near Jack. "I was hoping against hope you hadn't brought those detestable little creatures. I only hope the gulls eat them."
     
    But even Dinah couldn't feel annoyed for long as they glided over the green waves, leaving a white wake behind them, like a long feathery tail. When Bill appeared from the little cabin, they all hailed him in delight.
     
    "Bill! Dear old Bill, you look like yourself again!"
     
    "Oh, Bill — never wear a beard again. It does spoil your beauty."
     
    "Hurrah! We've lost Dr. Walker for ever. Silly fellow, I never liked him."
     
    "Bill, you look nice again. I can see your mouth when you smile."
     
    "Pay the bill, pay the bill!"
     
    "Shut up, Kiki, or the gulls will get you!"
     
    "Ah, this is something like," said Bill happily, taking the wheel from Philip. "Golly, if we get this weather we'll all be burnt black in a day or two. Better keep your shirts on, boys, or you'll get blistered."
     
    Everyone had discarded coats and wraps at once. The breeze was cool, but the sun was really very hot. The sea, in the distance, was unbelievably blue, the colour of cornflowers, Lucy-Ann thought.
     
    "Now, my dears," said Bill, his white shirt billowing in the breeze, "this is a holiday, not a hair-raising adventure. You've had enough of adventures. We've had three together, and this time I want a holiday."
     
    "Right," said Jack. "A holiday it shall be. Adventures keep out!"
     
    "I don't want any adventures either," said Lucy-Ann. "I've had plenty. This is adventure enough for me. I like this kind best — not the kind where we have to hide, and creep through secret tunnels and