In that instant the Daphne, paused slightly. A shiver went through her. There was a crash which sounded even above the roar of the storm. It was as if a masked battery had ambushed the bark from overhead. The foretop-gallant mast and all its hamper and everything above the crosstrees on the main were going by the board. A streak of lightning illuminated the gale's work.
Emily found the end of the gasket with which Paul was lashed to the wheel shaft. She tied it around her waist and took hold of the lee wheel. It was her answer to his savagery. He saw what she did and he did not send her away.
Thus, with never a word, they stood together for two hours during the height of the storm, hurtling along the coast of eternity.
Of a sudden there came a rift in the clouds overhead. A shaft of moonlight shot through the blackness and Paul's hand covered the gold woman's in a gentle pressure where it clutched a spoke.
"—think—beaten—it!" he shouted at her presently, "—thirsty!"
Emily unlashed herself and brought him another can of tomatoes. She took her post beside him again without a word. By midnight the gale's back was broken. The sea kept dropping with the lessening of the wind. It was long after dawn, however, when Paul unlashed himself from the wheel and put Emily in his place.
"You take her now for a few minutes," he said in a broken husky voice. "Going heave her to."
He started forward. His legs went out from under him. He struggled to his feet only to drop again. He got up moaning and with a curse on his lips. Clutching the rail he reeled down to the main deck.
Emily heard the palls of the capstan and then Paul's voice came to her in a pathetic wail.
"Hard down! Hard down!" he cried, but it was a sweep of his arm which carried his meaning to her. In obeyance she rolled the wheel over. The Daphne came round on her heel, until the maintopsail, flying aback, hove her to.