The gig ran alongside, and Brenda, stepping on deck, first said a few hurried words to Captain Barrow and the steward, who were standing together at the companion. Then the smaller boat moved away, and the long-boat took its place.
'The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord!' said Captain Barrow, looking severely at the steward, with the honest salt tears running down his cheeks as the two men received the cold burden from the arms of Trist and Barker.
Brenda turned slowly and looked into Theo Trist's face, on which there was even now no sign of fatigue. He had raised his eyes to hers on hearing Captain Barrow's simple words, and now they looked at each other in a strangely wondering way. Neither had thought of the Hand whose work this was until that moment.
CHAPTER VIII.
A JOINT COMMAND.
So the joint command of the Hermione lapsed into new hands—the man's command above decks, and the woman's rule below.
In both regions the new director stepped into the vacant place quietly, unostentatiously and confidently. Old Captain Barrow was as the potter's clay in Trist's gentle yet firm hands. The young fellow's strange subtle influence soon made itself felt upon the men. The Admiral had ruled by genial heartiness, coupled with the force of past experience implied by his title; the young journalist (who did not pretend to be a sailor) enforced obedience by the magnetic attraction of his implacable will.
Mrs. Wylie uttered no complaint, sued for no sympathy—she was simply stunned—and, in her imperious little way, Brenda took over all the smaller household duties, assumed all minor responsibilities, and gave the widow no rest.
She forced her to take an interest in smaller things, and allowed no time for thought. She herself literally put her to bed by the light of the morning sun, and calmly announced her intention of sharing the state-room. The Admiral was carried below, and laid on Trist's bed, and the latter moved, next day, into the room vacated by Brenda.
For him there was no rest that night. He did not even change the clothes in which he had been swimming a few hours before, while bringing ashore the dead man. By seven o'clock in the morning the Hermione was ready for sea—awning furled, stanchions stowed away, and the great sails shaken out.