Marston pondered. He knew Harry Wyndham rather well and had noted, in moments of excitement and strain, a curious recklessness that was perhaps not altogether normal. For example, there was the race when Red Rose and another yacht met close-hauled. Red Rose was on the port tack, and the rule was she must give way, but, until the last minute, Harry sat unmoved at the tiller. Marston remembered the piled-up foam about the plunging hulls as the yachts converged, the slanted pyramids of sail that looked as if they must shock, and the horrible tension he had felt. Then, when collision was imminent, Wyndham gave the other room and afterwards laughed.
"I was tempted to find out how it would feel if we rammed her," he confessed.
This, however, was some time since, and Marston did not dwell on the incident. His temperament was essentially normal.
"No sign of a breeze from the east yet," he said.
"All the same, it will come," Wyndham rejoined.
Marston looked about. The sun was getting low and it was nearly calm. Now and then the topsail flapped and the mainsail hung slack. Blocks rattled as the heavy boom jerked about. The swell was smooth and in color a curious shining green, as if the light were reflected through it from beneath. It looked as if they were crossing a big sand, but Marston did not sound. Harry knew the coast, and the sailing directions required them to keep outside the shoals.
In the distance a steamer's smoke trailed across the sky; one heard her engines beat with a monotonous rhythm. In front, the mist was melting and vague gray hills were faintly distinguishable. The yacht's deck was damp, but for the rolling she hardly moved.
"We had better get some food," said Marston. "I'll light the stove."
He went to the cabin and when, after the rude meal, they lounged and smoked, the mist suddenly rolled away. Long hills, with woods among their folds, ran back on the port hand; in the distance, a big black headland cut against the sunset. The water astern was hazy and dotted by sails. It was now a glassy calm.
"We're nearer the coast than I reckoned, but the ebb has given us a big lift," Marston observed.