Percival, with his passion once more arrested, strode after her furiously. He was intolerant of every moment that passed before be claimed her for his own, and unable longer to restrain his mad desire to fold her in his arms.
In the midst of these fervent anticipations he was unpleasantly aware of the increased motion of the ship. It was the first time he had felt that pitching, rolling motion since leaving the Golden Gate, and he shuddered involuntarily.
"Here's a cozy little corner all to ourselves!" cried Bobby, tossing the cushions into a nook in the music-room, and inviting him to a place beside her.
But Percival remained standing in the doorway, supporting himself with his free hand, his eyes fixed on space, and a leaden color spreading over his face.
"If you don't mind," he said slowly, "I think I'll go below. Feel the storm a bit in my head. Atmospheric pressure, you know."
"Of course you do," cried Bobby, all solicitude. "It's no wonder, after the blood you lost last night. Sit right down there until I find Judson."
XV
PERCIVAL RISES TO AN OCCASION
During the two nights and days that followed the typhoon had everything its own way. The sea bellowed with rage, and battalion after battalion of mountainous waves charged the ship, only to fall back and form again. For thirty consecutive hours the captain stayed on the bridge watching every variation in the glass, and keeping all of his Nelson features in active service. Whatever frivolities might fill his idle hours, there was no question of his attention to duty when the call came.