But before she could ask the storm was upon them again. Swifter than the arrow leaps from the bow it came, and the churned sea fled from the attack of the wind like a mighty white horse. The flying scud and rain beat mercilessly against her face; but she held bravely to the tiller, and stemmed the storm as well as she could, with her eyes shut and her teeth set.
The noise the storm made would have frightened Neptune himself; but high over it she heard Wopole shout:
‘The cable’s parted! Hard down!’
And she pressed on the tiller as hard as she could; but the stubborn bar refused to go down, and though she leant her whole weight on it, it only fell away to one side, and she had only strength to lie against it in vain hope of putting it down. Just then the sail began to raise itself, and the vessel seemed to feel its influence, for it was turning slowly round. Suddenly she saw Wopole appear in the mist of rain.
‘Let me have the tiller!’ he shouted; and she let go. Instantly he seized it and pushed it the other way with all his might.
But at this critical moment a disaster happened, that made it look as if everything had conspired against them. The tiller broke in half under the strong hands of Wopole, and before they could wink the vessel had turned its back to the wind, and they were carried at racing speed towards the end of the world. They had but a mile or so to go, and a mile is soon covered.
The last part of the journey was through a thick mist; but it didn’t much matter to Ernalie.
‘Anyhow, Wopole won’t be able to cut the strings,’ she thought.
Just then the fog began to get lighter, as if some great fire were just outside it, and in a few seconds they burst through the veil of mist into a light so blinding that the Princess could not keep her eyes open.