"Well, if your grace insists, I have no choice."
"You have no choice. She's beginning to heel over already; she's beginning to feel this nor'-easter already, and so am I. My pains grow bad; I feel it in my shoulder now. You may go now. Drew, and lie down, or take a watch on deck, as you consider best. Anyway, have just another look at that rudder-head before you turn in, and come and tell me what you think; we will then finally decide as to our course."
When the captain regained the deck, he found the wind had freshened. There was as much wind now as she could bear with all fore-and-aft canvas set. It was not yet necessary to think of taking in sail, but it would be if the breeze got any stronger. She was now quite comfortable, with flying-jib and gaff-topsails. The covering-boards on the port-side were under; but Captain Drew would rather keep her going than insure a dry deck. The dead-lights were all closed, and everything snug except the rudder-head. It was worrying to think he should not have found out about that rudder-head until he was a hundred and fifty miles from Silver Bay, and upwards of a hundred and thirty from any port. But the wedging was sure to hold; in fact, it couldn't help holding, unless the wood was ten times worse than it looked.
Captain Drew went aft. The carpenter and first and second mates were still at the rudder-head. The broken-up seat had been carried away. Pritchard was still at the wheel.
"Well, Mr. Mate, what do you think of the cap now?"
"Taut as a drum now, sir."
"How does she behave? How does she feel, Pritchard?"
"Answers as good as new, sir. Look!"
He put up the wheel a little to port, and then a little to starboard; at each side, before he got the wheel two spokes over, there was a check, and plainly the jump of the rudder.
The captain rubbed his hands. He really thought now she would fetch forty pounds a ton, and tomorrow she would be his.