I looked away across the sea, for somehow I could not help it.
"What are you looking at?" she asked. "They cannot catch us, can they?"
The foremost mutineers had reached the boat and were climbing aboard. The little clerk, white and gasping, raised his oar and struck at them with screams of terror, striking and screaming again.
"Hush! don't look, darling," said I, and I put my hands before her eyes. "It is the judgment of God."
She shuddered. Pye's shrieks rang in my ear; I glanced off the taffrail and saw that the mutineers had possession of the boat. They were busy with the oars. I could see no one else. The boat was headed towards us.
Legrand cast a glance of indifference backwards.
"If you care to hold the wheel, Phillimore, we can rig that other sail," he said.
I took the wheel. Alix was by my side, and the breeze sang in the sheets.
"We're going home, dear heart," I whispered.
She moved closer to me, shuddered and sighed, and I think the sigh was a sigh of contentment.