“What will you do?”

“Rig up the sail the best I can in the dark; there is breeze enough to give us some headway, and ship the rudder.”

“Do you know which direction to steer?”

“Not now, but I have a compass in my pocket; a northeast course would be sure to bring us to the coast, and towns are scattered along.  I found that out from Broussard yesterday.”

She made no response, bending over with the tin dipper, and I went at my task, straightening out ropes so they would work easily through the blocks.  In spite of the darkness I was not greatly hampered, as everything had been stored away in shipshape manner, and came conveniently to hand.  The wind freshened perceptibly while I was thus engaged, veering into the southeast, so that all the cloth I dare spread was the jib and a closely reefed mainsail.  The boat acted a bit cranky, but, confident she would stand up under this canvas, I crawled back to the tiller, eased off the sheet a trifle more, and waited results.  We shipped a bucket full of water, and then settled into a good pace, a cream of surge along our port gunwale, and a white wake astern.  The woman kept on bailing steadily, until the planks were dry, and then crept cautiously back to the thwart just in front of me, leaning over slightly to keep clear of the occasional flap of the sail.

I hoped she would speak, and thus afford me some excuse for telling what I had discovered on board the Sea Gull, but she sat there in silence, staring straight ahead into the ceaseless drizzle, her oilskins gathered tightly.  Holding the tiller under my arm I unscrewed the face of the compass, and made a guess at our position.  However, there was no star, or other mark of guidance, by which I could steer; only the wind, which apparently shifted in gusts, and I could merely hold the leaping craft in the course I deemed safest.  I doubt if the eye penetrated twenty feet beyond the boat’s rail, but we raced through the smother in a way that gave me a certain thrill of exultation.  At least we were clear of the Sea Gull, and safe enough, unless a storm arose.  With the return of daylight a course could be set for the coast, which would n’t be far away.  So I stared into the darkness, and waited, scarcely bold enough to break the silence.

CHAPTER XXXII

A TALK IN THE NIGHT

I wondered what awaited us ahead in that black mystery of waters; had they discovered yet our absence on board the Sea Gull?  If so, what would Henley do?  Knowing that I had rifled his desk, his one thought upon release would naturally be the recovery of the papers.  Besides, smarting from his bonds, and thirsting for revenge, he would never permit the vessel to depart from these waters without an effort to overtake us.  Private vengeance would outweigh all other considerations.  God pity us if we ever fell into his clutches again.