He was awakened, shivering, by hearing Vane calling him, and scrambling out into the well, he took the helm as his comrade left it.
"What's her course?" he inquired.
"If you can keep her hammering ahead close-hauled on the port tack, it's all I ask," Vane laughed. "You needn't call me unless the sea gets steeper."
He crawled below; and it was a few minutes before Carroll, who was dazzled by the change from the dim lamplight, felt himself fit for his task. Fine spray whirled about him. It was pitch dark, but by degrees he made out the shadowy seas which came charging up, tipped with frothing white, upon the weather bow. By the way they broke on board it struck him that they were steep enough already, but Vane had seen them not long ago and there was nothing to be gained by expostulation if they caused him no anxiety. Several hours went by, and then Carroll noticed that the faint crimson blink which sometimes fell upon the seas to weather was no longer visible. It was evident that the port light had either gone out or been washed out, and it was his manifest duty to relight it. On the other hand, he could not do so unless Vane took the helm. He was wet and chilled through; any fresh effort was distasteful; he did not want to move; and he decided that they were most unlikely to meet a steamer, while it was certain that there would be no other yacht about. He left the lamp alone, and at length Vane came up.
"What's become of the port light?" he demanded.
"That's more than I can tell you. It was burning an hour ago."
"An hour ago!" Vane broke out with disgusted indignation.
"It may have been a little longer. They've stopped the Alaska steamboats now, but of course there's no reason why you shouldn't light that lamp again, if it would give you any satisfaction. I'll stay up until you're through with it."
Vane did as he suggested, and immediately afterward Carroll retired below. He slept until a pale ray of sunshine crept in through the skylights, and then crawling out found the sloop lurching very slowly over a dying swell, with her deck and shaking mainsail white with frost. The wind had fallen almost dead away, and it was very cold.
"On the whole," he complained, "this is worse than the other thing."