Came a day when the Princess Memene whispered briefly in the king's ear the burden of a pretty secret that she could no longer bear to keep from him. Close enfolded in his arms, she told him that which caused him to flush as radiantly as she.
"Another king is coming," Minos murmured low. "Hail to the king! But alas, his sire hath for him no kingdom to rule, unless indeed one may be won in the land whither we are journeying."
"Mayhap not a king, but a princess," said Memene.
Strong of the hope that was in him, Minos made answer. "Nay, he shall be a king."
And after thoughtful pause he added, "We will call him Patrymion."
Thus was another incentive added, bidding the wanderers bend every effort to reach with speed the friendly arms of civilization.
When they came again to the region of nights and days they were forced to do their traveling by sunlight mostly, and at night to drift. Twice the chill in the air warned them just in the nick of time of the proximity of icebergs, and they escaped them by recourse to the engine.
Then a storm came up from the southwest and hurled them north under bare poles, with the prospect of utter destruction momentarily before them.
"Let it blow," said Zenas Wright grimly. "If we can only keep afloat, it's helping us north fast enough, and, besides, it saves gas."