"Cap'n Hand, sir," the mate began, nervously, "is you goin'——"
The captain looked up in amazement when the mate stammered and stopped. "Well, sir?" he said.
"Is you goin' inside the ice, sir?"
"Is I goin' WHAT?" roared the captain, turning upon him. "Is I goin' WHAT, sir?"
It was sufficient. The captain was going among the fields. The mate needed no plainer answer to his question.
"Beg pardon, sir," he muttered meekly. "I thought you was."
"Huh!" growled the captain.
When the ship passed into the lane, the storm burst overhead. The scunner in the foretop was near blinded by the driven snow. His voice was swept hither and thither by the wind. Directions came to the bridge in broken sentences. The captain dared not longer drive the vessel at full speed.
"Half speed!" he signalled.