"When needful, madam!"
"Am I but to answer when you deign me notice? Will it plague you if I sing? Am I to sit with my hands folded henceforth and do nought but think? Must I stay in the bows until you summon me thence?" says she, and all in the same small, soft voice, so that I perceived my fine speech had been thrown away; wherefore I stared up at the sail and with never a word in answer.
But presently, chancing to look at her, I found her regarding me with her dimpled chin set mighty resolute; "Because," says she, meeting my look, "I shall talk when I will and sing when so minded, Martin Conisby. I shall not sit in the bows for 'tis wet there, and I shall not fold my hands, but you shall teach me how to steer and handle the boat and do my share of the labour. For look now, here are we, by no will of our own, God knoweth, companions in misfortune, let us then aid each other that our troubles be the easier. And O pray do you forget Martin Conisby his woes awhile." And away she goes, and getting to her knees before one of the lockers, begins rearranging the contents, singing away the while merry as any grig.
As the day wore on, the skies clouded over with a wind very sudden and blusterous, wherefore, misliking the look of things, I was for shortening sail, but feared to leave the helm lest the boat should broach to and swamp while this was a-doing. But the wind increasing, I was necessitated to call my companion beside me and teach her how she must counter each wind-gust with the helm, and found her very apt and quick to learn. So leaving the boat to her manage I got me forward and (with no little to-do) double-reefed our sail, leaving just sufficient to steer by; which done I glanced to my companion where she leaned to the tiller, her long hair streaming out upon the wind, her lithe body a-sway to the pitching of the boat and steering as well as I myself. From her I gazed to windward where an ominous and ever-growing blackness filled me with no small apprehensions; wherefore I made fast all our loose gear, as oars, spare sail, spars and the like. Now in the bows were stowed her belongings, a leathern trunk and divers bundles, the which I proceeded to secure in their turn. This done, I got me aft again, but when I would have relieved her of the tiller, she shook her head.
"Nay, let me steer a while," she cried, looking up through her wind-tossed hair, "'tis joy to me! Lay you down and rest a while and trust the boat to me." And seeing how quick she was to meet each send of the seas (that were already running high) glad enough was I to humour her whim, and clambered forward again. And there (having nought better to do) I set about rigging a rough awning athwart the bows, with canvas and a stout spar, which methought should keep out the spray and any chance sea that might break forward; though indeed the boat seemed mighty staunch, and sea-worthy to a miracle.
With every hour the wind waxed in fury and therewith the sea rose, huge, rolling billows that came roaring up astern to whirl us aloft amid hissing brine and passing, left us deep-plunged in great, foaming hollows. Being got back aft at last and with no small exertion (by reason of the boat's pitching) I stared amazed to hear my companion singing right joyously.
"O Martin!" she cried, her voice a-thrill with the clear, vital ring I knew so well, "O Martin, the wonder and glory of it! See yonder on these mighty waters, Death rides crying to us. But God is there also, and if these rushing surges 'whelm us we, dying, shall find God there." And beholding her as she sat, her face uplifted to the tempest, her sea-wet hair upborne upon the wind, I marvelled within myself. "And the boat, Martin!" cries she as we rose on a hissing wave-crest, "This dear, brave boat! See how nobly she rides—indeed and indeed I do love her every timber!"
And verily to me, awed by these mighty waters, it was wonderful to see how our little craft rose to the seas, buoyant as any cork; now poised 'mid hissing foam high in air, now plunging dizzily down; and ever the wind gathered fury until the very air seemed full of whirling spindrift.
In a while I took the tiller, and wondered to see my companion droop all at once with head bowed upon her hands.
"Are you sick?" I cried.