Alas! what meager chance had a frail human being amid such resistless forces?
I was in no humor to allow any weakness to get the upper hand; if ever I needed all the faculties nature had given me, it was then, when face to face with the crisis of my life.
There was something else to rivet my attention besides despair—I felt that this was my time to win my way back to paradise, or, failing, lose all that man held dear below.
What concerned me most of all lay in my opportunity to advance my cause. My worst fear was that I should be separated from this dear one, that she might be torn from my arms by the remorseless waves.
I had snatched up a coil of rope as I started to leave the cabin, something that had been forgotten by one of the men.
How could I secure Hildegarde to myself, so that we would be sure to remain united?
A heaven-born thought flashed into my head. I remembered a patent cork mooring-buoy I had purchased, intending to have it mark the spot where our anchor lay when we remained in a harbor for a time, making little trips here and there, to return again to our anchorage.
Leaving Hildegarde, with a hurried explanation of my purpose, I dashed once more into the cabin—the painted thing had never as yet been used, and had served merely as a decoration.
Tearing it loose and dragging it after me, I made once more for the door.
It was then the yacht rolled frightfully, quivering in every timber, like a stricken thing.