"Thank you—men," said the Captain, and then he fainted. Mary sent the men on deck, and with the assistance of the cook put her father in his bunk, where he presently recovered his consciousness, but was still in great pain. Mary sat beside him in deep thought.
"Dare I do it?" she said to herself. "I am so young; yet I am not inexperienced, and something must be done. Half the crew and the mates down with berri-berri, and the Captain disabled; the bark must be— I'll do it."
"What are you—thinking about, Mary?" asked her father.
"This. We must make for the nearest port that you may have proper medical attention, father, and we must do it the minute the gale moderates enough to let us clap more cloth on the bark. The barometer is rising, and the wind has shifted four points. The gale will break by morning. We are on the outside edge of it, and we'll soon be out of it. Now, father, put me in command of the bark, and I'll take her into New York."
"But will the crew—obey you?"
"Ask them."
Mary went on deck and asked the men, except the helmsman, to come to the cabin.
"Men," she said, "the Captain is hurt, the mates and half the crew are sick. The bark ought to go to the nearest port. I can take her there. Will you help me? What do you say?"
"That you're right, miss," said one of the men. "And we'll take our orders from you same as from the Cap'n. Won't we, lads?"
"Yes, yes!"