Calm and strong sat the old man, with the tiller in his sinewy hand; his eye was steady, his hand was true, and none could have told by reading his countenance that the life of one he held a thousandfold dearer than his own hung on the balance of a frail boat and a stormy sea.
The two sailors had the ordinary non-committal expression always observable in trained seamen, unvarying apparently, whether a sail be split, a leak be sprung, or a hopeless fire be discovered in the hold.
Mr. Windsor, unconsciously holding on tightly to the thwart upon which he sat, as though looseness of seat might operate prejudicially, as in the countless equine dangers which he had braved, was evidently of opinion, with Panurge, that a cabbage planter was a man to be envied.
On the pale clear-cut features of the Australian maiden sat a wondrous calm, not wholly unmingled with mental exaltation, as of a Greek heroine devoted to death yet favoured of the gods. The wild night breeze had blown back her hair, yet, as she leaned forward and gazed fearlessly at the course, nothing could have improved the statuesque ease and grace of her pose. One of the rare personages who, either from instinctive adaptation or finished training, seem identified with all sea life and adventure from the moment they touch the plank of boat or vessel, she appeared born to rule and glory amid the perils of old Ocean.
As she looked forward into the driving gale, a steady lambent light shining out of her clear dark eyes, Ernest Neuchamp thought he could trace more of the enjoyment that fearless natures extract from danger than of even reasonable apprehension in the girl’s whole mien and bearing.
‘Well, if we are to go down to the shades below,’ thought he, ‘no one appears to have more than a very slight objection to the cruise; Jack and myself, as being mere landsmen, alone excepted. Well, perhaps our luck will pull us through this time.’
As if in response to his unspoken half-thought, half-prayer, Paul Frankston broke the silence by saying with a different tone in his voice from its last intonation, ‘By George! I believe poor little Haidée will do it yet. Yonder’s the point, and I think we shall just be able to slip into the inner cove. Antonia darling, what are you thinking about?’
‘I was thinking of my mother,’ said the girl dreamily, as with an effort she changed her position, and reverted to an everyday expression of face and manner. ‘I wonder if people know one another at once in the spirit world. Papa! I think I must begin to put a check upon your boat-sailing tastes, or you must get a Kanaka crew that can’t be drowned. You are a little too venturous even for me.’
As the boat glided in towards the Morahmee pier, and one by one thankfully exchanged the wet and slippery planks for the solid stonework, the sky darkened yet again, and the storm in its might swept over the angry waste of waters outside of the sheltered nook as if a fresh blast had been unchained among the far south ice fieldss, and had hasted to the gathering where wind and sea revel in their mirth, and where many a tress of mermaiden hair mingles with the trailing ocean sea-flowers.
Mr. Windsor spoke no word until they had nearly reached the garden gate. Then he said respectfully, but firmly, ‘I think I’ve seen all I mean to see of Sydney harbour, sir. I don’t care if I never go fishing again, except off a river bank. If any one says there’s three heads and not two, I shan’t say whether they’re right or wrong. The next time I’m a little tired of being John Windsor I shall stumble against Ben Bolt’s hind-legs; but no more salt-water pleasure parties. I ain’t on. Good-night, sir.’