The wheel was put over a few spokes, the crew paid out some of the main and fore-sheets, and the Astarte went foaming down widely to leeward of the steamer.
I heard the “cling-cling” of the steamer’s engine signal, and her noisy propeller stopped.
Then our wheel was put hard over, the big booms came aboard with a swing, and the Astarte came into the wind with a tremendous flapping of her head-sails. Her way took her within a few yards of the steamer, and as the helm was put over again she slid slowly along her lee.
A man on the dirty little bridge gave us a hail and swung out a small packet attached to a light line which was neatly caught by Jakoub.
“All right?” he hailed in English.
“All right.”
The steamer’s skipper rang his engines on again, the Astarte gathered her way, and the two boats parted with a wave of the hand from the man on the bridge.
I saw Captain Welfare cut the canvas wrappings from the packet that had been thrown aboard. He took a letter out, opened it, and glanced at it swiftly.
Then it seemed to me that he looked across the deck at myself with an expression of regretful perplexity on his great heavy face.
It occurred to me that this was how he would look if he had to announce to me that someone very dear to me were dead.