Barnes tried to speak, but his throat was suddenly dry.
"I—damn it, girl, don't make me think of it! I did what I could. Go to sleep."
Ellen Maggs caught her breath sharply. Then, after a moment, Barnes felt her hand touch his, and he gripped her fingers. Both women were crying, he thought; but after a little they fell quiet, lulled by the regular rise and fall of the boat, by the long forward sweep, the rush and hiss of water as she drove along on a crest, and the tilted drop into the trough only to gather impetus anew and hurl forward.
The curling sweep of wind and sea, like a cleansing breath, wiped out all that was behind them and lessened the sharp memory. Once Barnes, looking back, saw a searchlight fingering the water; that was all. The stars blazed cold and brilliant, and the thin crescent of the new moon hung like green silver against the depths above. So passed the hours, and the boat rushed ever onward and onward under the steady sweep of wind. Barnes held her on the same course the Sulu Queen had been following, to make the Bornean coast. They were far out of any steamer track, and there was no hope of being picked up unless by some chance trading schooner.
Dawn found them steadily bowling along. Li Fu had crept aft and relieved Barnes of the tiller; and Barnes, resting against the stern-thwart, opened his eyes to find the head of Ellen Maggs pillowed upon his shirt, and his arms about her shoulders. How this had come about, he had not the least idea, but made no objection to the arrangement.
Perhaps aroused by his awakening stir, the girl opened her eyes a moment later. Nora Sayers was sleeping peacefully. Barnes felt Ellen Maggs catch her breath at sight of the ocean and sky that closed them in, then saw the color come into her cheeks. Before she turned to glance at him, he closed his eyes again. She did not move, but, after realizing the situation, accepted it. Above them the lean form of Li Fu crouched at the tiller, dark eyes sweeping the water ahead.
"Awake?" asked Barnes after a moment. "Don't move. Sailing a whaleboat before the wind, even with a centreboard, is about as ticklish as canoeing. Comfortable?"
"Very, thank you," she responded, although he could see that the color lingered in her cheeks.
"When the kids wake up, we'll stretch our legs a bit and break out some grub," said Barnes. She was silent for a space, then spoke quietly.
"Are we going anywhere? Have you seen any ship, or will any see us?"