"It was the hand of Providence, as I'm a Christian." John Mewes was mounting the quarterdeck, solemn and subdued. A crowd of stunned seamen were following him to gain a better view astern. "The Roundhead whoresons were tempting fate. They should've known better than puttin' to sea with topmasts like those in this damn'd weather. Heaven knows, I could have told them."
There was a murmur of assent from the others. They stood praising the beneficence of God and watched as the last burning mast disappeared into the rain.
After Winston had lashed the whipstaff in place and ordered the sails shortened, he collapsed against the binnacle.
"It was a miracle, Hugh." Katherine wrapped an arm about him. Her bodice was soaked with rain and sweat. "I think I was praying. When I'd all but forgotten how."
"I've heard of it happening, God knows. But I've never before seen it. Just think. If we'd had taller masts, we could well have caught it ourselves."
Now the mood was lightening, as congratulations began to pass among the men. It was only then Katherine noticed the white shift at their feet. The mulatto was crumpled beside the binnacle, still as death.
"John, have somebody come and take that woman below." Winston glanced down. "She looks to have fainted."
"Aye. I was near to faintin' myself, truth to tell."
Finally Winston pulled himself up and surveyed the seamen. "I say well done, masters, one and all. So let's all have a word of thanks to the Almighty . . . and see if we can locate a keg of brandy. This crew has earned it."
Katherine leaned against him as she watched the cheering men head for the main deck. "Where can we go now, Hugh?