They watched the ink-dark center of the storm, spreading behind the white peaks of the island they had recently passed. Evans turned around and spoke to the Chief. “Engines in good shape?”
“That’s right.”
“Could you get up any more speed, say thirteen knots?”
“Not if you want to keep the starboard engine in one piece.”
In a low voice Evans talked with Bervick. He spoke again to the Chief. “Keep going just as you are, then. Keep pretty constant. I’m heading for Ilak. The wind probably won’t be bad until evening.
“If it holds off for a dozen hours or so, or if it isn’t too strong, I’ll take her into Kulak Bay tomorrow morning. We’ll be safe in there.” Evans spoke with authority. The Major could not help but admire his coolness. He seemed to lack all nervousness. The Major was only too conscious of his own nerves.
Hodges was listening, fascinated, his dark eyes bright with excitement. Major Barkison wished he could be as absorbed in events as young Hodges. I have too much imagination, thought the Major sadly. He would have to set an example, though. His rank and training demanded it.
“What would you like us to do, Mr Evans?” he asked.
“Keep cool. That’s about all. Stay below and stay near the crew. If anything should go wrong, they’ll get you in the lifeboats. The chances of this thing getting that bad are pretty slight, but we have to be ready.”
“I see.”