“You had better wake the landsman. We must have a third hand for this.”
“No,” said a woman's voice, sweet, but clear and unwavering. “I shall be the third hand.”
“Curse it,” cried David, “she has heard us.”
“Every word. And I have no confidence in Mr. Talboys; and, believe me, I am more to be trusted than he is. See, my cowardice is all worn out. Do but trust me, and you shall find I want neither courage nor intelligence.”
David eyed her keenly, and full in the face. She met his glance calmly, with her fine nostrils slightly expanding, and her compressed lip curving proudly.
“It is all right, Jack. It is not a flash in the pan. She is as steady as a rock.” He then addressed her rapidly and business-like, but with deference. “You will stand by the helm on this side, and the moment I run forward, you will take the helm and hold it in this position. That will require all your strength. Come, try it. Well done.”
“How the sea struggles with me! But I am strong, you see,” cried Lucy, her brow flushed with the battle.
“Very good; you are strong, and, what is better, resolute. Now, observe me: this is port, this is starboard, and this is amidships.”
“I see; but how am I to know which to do?”'
“I shall give you the word of command.”