Was there a spice of mockery in his voice, or was it her fancy? Meriel could not be certain. There had been a smile on Flurscheim's face. Supposing he suspected that Guy was the man who had robbed him of his treasure, Guy would be arrested. She knew in that moment that all that he had told her had made no difference to her affection. She knew that she loved him, thief as he was, that she would do anything, make any sacrifice, to rescue him from the result of his misdeeds. She left her post and went aft to Guy's side. A distant flash of lightning illuminated Flurscheim's face. He was still smiling as he gazed in their direction. She wondered whether Guy had observed the Jew's expression. If so, he had paid no heed to it. His whole attention was given to the boat, though now and again he cast an anxious glance at the sky.
"Here comes the breeze again," he muttered. He gave a sigh of relief as the sails filled. "Five minutes of it, and we shall escape the storm," he said. The Witch heeled over till her rail was awash and the foam creamed away in their wake.
Meriel looked back at Flurscheim. He waved his hand, and even as he waved it he overbalanced and fell forward into the water. She gave utterance to a sharp cry of alarm.
"What is it?" shouted Guy, for the rushing of the wind made ordinary speech impossible to be heard.
"Flurscheim is overboard," she gasped.
Without a moment's hesitation Guy put the tiller down, and, as the Witch came up into the wind, he glanced in the direction to which Meriel pointed. A dark object was being borne swiftly along on the tide. Guy kept the tiller down until the boat was before the wind, and giving the mainsail more sheet, the Witch scudded back in the direction she had come. But the dark object had disappeared.
"Can you manage the tiller?" shouted Guy.
Meriel nodded.
"Bring her up into the wind the moment I tell you," he said. He cast loose the painter of the dingey towing aft, and stood with it in his hand, watching patiently. The dark object reappeared not a dozen yards away. He had already kicked off his boots. He dropped the painter.
"Now," he shouted to Meriel, and took a header straight into the tossing water.