Meanwhile there had been heavy tramping of feet on the deck, as the men trimmed the sails.  She could only go under double-reefed trysails and fore-staysail for the present, and it was no joke to keep her head up while the reefs were taken in.  It was blowing considerably more than half a gale of wind, and the sea was very heavy.  Soon, however, the effect of the sails made itself felt; the yacht was a good sea-boat, and when she fairly heeled over on the port-tack and began to cut the waves again, the ladies downstairs agreed that sailing was much pleasanter and steadier than steam, and that the next time they crossed in a yacht they would like to sail all the way.  But in spite of their courage, and notwithstanding that they were greatly reassured by the explanations of Mr. Barker, who made the nature of the accident quite clear to them, they had been badly shaken, and soon retired to their respective staterooms.  In the small confusion of getting to their feet to leave the cabin it chanced that Claudius found himself helping Margaret to the door.  The recollection of her touch and look when the accident happened was strong in him yet and gave him courage.

“Good-night, Countess,” he said; “shall I have the pleasure of reading with you to-morrow?”

“Perhaps,” she answered; “if it is very fine.  Fate has decreed that we should have plenty of time.”  He tried to catch a glance as she left his arm, but she would not, and they were parted for the night.  Barker had gone into the engine-room, now quiet and strange; the useless machinery stood still as it had been stopped when the loss of the propeller, relieving the opposition to the motor-force, allowed it to make its last frantic revolutions.  The Duke and Claudius were left alone in the main cabin.

“Well,” said the Duke, “we are in for it this time, at all events.”

“We are indeed,” said Claudius; “I hope the delay will not cause you any serious inconvenience, for I suppose we shall not reach New York for a fortnight at least.”

“It will not inconvenience me at all.  But I am sorry for you—­for you all, I mean,” he added, fearing he had been awkward in thus addressing Claudius directly, “because it will be so very disagreeable, such an awful bore for you to be at sea so long.”

“I have no doubt we shall survive,” said the other, with a smile.  “What do you say to going on deck and having a chat with Sturleson, now that all is quiet?”

“And a pipe?” said the Duke, “I am with you.”  So on deck they went, and clambered along the lee to the smoking-room, without getting very wet.  Sturleson was sent for, and they reviewed together the situation.  The result of the inquiry was that things looked much brighter to all three.  They were in a good sea-boat, well manned and provisioned, with nothing to fear from the weather, and if they were lucky they might make Sandy Hook in a week.  On the other hand, they might not; but it is always well to take a cheerful