“'Bout ship!” cried Sickleton; “stand by sheets and tacks there—down helm! Are ye ready, men?” And the next moment the obedient vessel spun round, and was cleaving the water on another tack.
“What is it? where am I? is this a dream?” said Lady Kilgoff, as she moved back the hair from her eyes, and looked up at Cashel, who for hours had never moved or stirred.
“To me it has been a delicious dream,” said Cashel, as he met her glance; “and if it were not that you may feel alarmed, it would be still such.”
“What a terrible sea! Where are we?”
“Not far from shore,” said Cashel, encouragingly.
“A devilish deal too near it, though,” muttered the pilot, under his breath.
“Oh, I remember all now. Where is my Lord, Mr. Cashel? Is he ill?”
“He 's gone below—he is sleeping, I believe. It has been a wild night for you; and you 've passed it here on the deck.”
“Here?” said she, looking up and blushing, for she still lay supported against Roland, and one of his hands held the boat-cloak across her.
“Yes, here,” said Cashel, with a voice and manner that made the color mount to her cheeks and as suddenly desert them again.