Trained as she had been in seamanship, Dora Fletcher saw in a flash the peril which threatened the ship. With no one to control the steering-gear, the Hawk would fall away into the trough of that tremendous sea and then no mortal power could save her. Even as this thought struck her, the girl sprang to the wheel and brought the vessel round again bows-on to the rollers just as she was about to swing broadside-on.
Calamity, staggering to his feet, saw the girl there at the wheel and the inert form of the quartermaster at her feet. Imbued with the traditions and customs of the sea as she was, Dora Fletcher experienced a momentary misgiving at thought of the sacrilege she had committed and wondered whether the Captain, in his just wrath, would order her to be locked in her cabin for the rest of the voyage. The fact that, by her presence of mind, she had saved the ship and all on board from inevitable destruction did not occur to her at the moment. Involuntarily she clenched her teeth in expectation of the storm of anger she felt sure was about to descend upon her. Then, above the howling of the gale, she caught the Captain's voice, harsh and commanding.
"Port a little! That'll do; steady now, steady!"
And that was all. Her presence there at the wheel seemed to have caused him no more surprise than if she had been one of the deck-hands. It was, in a way, humiliating, because it robbed her of all sense of triumph; all the wilful delight of having committed a daring and unauthorised act.
In answer to a signal from the bridge, a couple of seamen came up from the forecastle and removed the unconscious quartermaster, leaving the Captain and the girl by themselves upon the bridge. Calamity took no further notice of her, but, hanging on to the rail, continued to gaze into the teeth of the gale. Presently, without turning round, he shouted a hoarse command which the girl obeyed, repeating the order as she turned the wheel. Her apprehension had left her now, and she was even conscious of a feeling of pride that the Captain, seemingly, was content to trust the steering to her, and, though he had hitherto kept two quartermasters at the wheel, seemed to take it for granted that she was quite competent to manage alone.
When six bells struck—eleven o'clock in the forenoon watch—Dora Fletcher had been at the wheel over three hours. The storm, far from abating, had increased in fury, and some there were among the crew who began to doubt whether the steamer would live through it.
At eight bells the relief watch came up to take over the wheel. The girl relinquished it thankfully, for she was both hungry and exhausted. Reaching her cabin, she ate ravenously of the food which the steward had left for her, and then turned in, falling asleep almost before she had removed her sea-boots. She did not awaken till eight bells in the afternoon watch, and then, as the crew were keeping "watch and watch," she turned out of her bunk and donned oilskins and sea-boots once more. Whether or no Calamity expected her, she was determined to take it for granted that she should do her "trick" as though she were a regular member of the crew.
Feeling just a little bit apprehensive, she climbed to the bridge, took over the wheel, and was given steering directions by the off-going quartermasters, one of whom paused as he was going and bellowed in the girl's ear:
"Better keep a bright look-out, Miss. The skipper's got one of 'is malaria attacks comin' on. I've sailed with 'im before, and I know."
This was startling, for the girl, somehow, had never conceived it possible that Calamity could suffer from any of the ordinary ills which flesh is heir to. She watched him more intently after the sailor's warning, and noticed that he moved stiffly as if in pain, and that, whenever he stood still, he seemed to be trembling in every limb.