“They go about quicker than we do,” said Talboys.

“Of course they do; they have not got to dip their sail, as we have, every time we tack.”

This was the true solution, but Mr. Talboys did not accept it.

“We are not so smart as we ought to be.  Now you go to the helm, and I and the boy will dip the lug.”

The old boatman took the helm as requested, and gave the word of command to Mr. Talboys.  “Stand by the foretack.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Talboys, “here I am.”

“Let go the fore-tack”; and, contemporaneously with the order, he brought the boat’s head round.

Now this operation is always a nice one, particularly in these small luggers, where the lug has to be dipped, that is to say, lowered, and raised again on the opposite side of the mast; for the lug should not be lowered a moment too soon, or the boat, losing her way, would not come round; nor a moment too late, lest the sail, owing to the new position the boat is taking under the influence of the rudder, should receive the wind while between the wind and the mast, and so the craft be taken aback, than which nothing can well happen more disastrous.

Mr. Talboys, though not the accomplished sailor he thought himself, knew this as well as anybody, and with the boy’s help he lowered the sail at the right moment; but, getting his head awkwardly in the way, the yard, in coming down, hit him on the nose and nearly knocked him on to his beam-ends.  It would have been better if it had done so quite instead of bounding off his nose on to his shoulder and there resting; for, as it was, the descent of the sail being thus arrested half-way at the critical moment, and the boat’s head coming round all the same, a gust of wind caught the sail and wrapped it tight round the mast to windward.  The boy uttered a cry of terror so significant that Lucy trembled all over, and by an uncontrollable impulse leaned despairingly back and waved her white handkerchief toward the antagonist boat.  The old boatman with an oath darted forward with an agility he could not have shown ashore.

The effect on the craft was alarming.  If the whole sail had been thus taken aback, she would have gone down like lead; for, as it was, she was driven on her side and at the same time driven back by the stern; the whole sea seemed to rise an inch above her gunwale; the water poured into her at every drive the gusts of wind gave her, and the only wonder seemed why the waves did not run clean over her.

In vain the old boatman, cursing and swearing, tugged at the canvas to free it from the mast.  It was wrapped round it like Dejanira’s shirt, and with as fatal an effect; the boat was filling; and as this brought her lower in the water, and robbed her of much of her buoyancy, and as the fatal cause continued immovable, her destruction was certain.

Every cheek was blanched with fear but Lucy’s, and hers was red as fire ever since she waved her handkerchief; so powerful is modesty with her sex.  A true virgin can blush in death’s very grasp.