The cutter sailed smoothly. And the men told yarns. But every eye was on the look-out for the smoke of some passing ship.
We saw none. Not a speck on the ocean, save the long-boat ahead. And by-and-by the sun set, and a little fog crept up. And the night came on as black as pitch and very drear.
Sylvia and I huddled close in the blanket that Dr. Atherton had tied about our shoulders; and whispered our prayers together.
"To-morrow will be Sunday, Sylvia," I said.
And she whispered back: "They will pray for those that travel by water in the Litany."
II.
I couldn't sleep. Every time I began to lose consciousness I started up in a fright, and saw the May Queen going down into the sea again; and fancied I saw the captain struggling in the cabin. It was terrible.
I could hear the men snoring peacefully in the boat. They were all asleep except the helmsman.
At midnight he roused up another man to take his place; and after that I remembered no more till I started up in the grey dawn with a loud "Ahoy!" quivering in my ears.
"Ahoy! A-hoy!"