"All right," cried Barry. "Hoist away. Mains'l first."
Barry ran below to look out charts and rulers and the other navigating implements necessary for simple point-to-point navigation. He found Natalie sitting in the main saloon with her chin in her cupped hand, gazing into the future. Her eyes grew dusky and her face flooded with color as he stopped by her chair and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Well, lady mine," he said, finding sudden boldness in her confusion. "Are you thinking of what old Cornelius said?"
"Not entirely," she replied, meeting his gaze with eyes that swiftly changed to disconcerting clearness. "Why should it be necessary for Mr. Houten to say anything?"
Barry had graduated from the awkward class, though perhaps not long ago. He swept her up in his arms, triumphantly aware that she struggled and submitted, and his lips sought hers in a first kiss. But suddenly, when her submission seemed absolute, Natalie revealed a strength that amazed and puzzled him. She writhed free from his grasp and said with a low little laugh:
"I was not thinking about what Cornelius said—but of what you once said to Juliana—Jack!"
He was staggered for a second, then he remembered, and would have followed her. But she ran into her own cabin and shut the door upon him. His duties compelled him to hurry, for the cable was coming in fast, and overhead the heavy canvas began to rattle and flap in the wind as the schooner swung. He entered the cabin that had been used as a chart room and rummaged the desk for parallel rulers and dividers; but a soft step behind him brought him to a stand quickly. Natalie stood beside him, a soft glow on her face, her eyes shining like stars now, and in her hand she held out a photograph to him.
"You said that when next you took this, it would be when I placed it in your cabin," she said, meeting his eyes with a blushing challenge.
Their souls met, spoke, and understood. She did not refuse him her lips now but surrendered with glad abandon. The hoarse roar of Rolfe, reporting the anchor apeak, and the bellowing bass of old Bill Blunt giving the word to belay the peak halliards, failed to disturb them. A second shout from the mate was answered by Barry's: