‘No,’ cried Lady Monson, who probably imagined that if this shelter went she would be driven to the cabin.
Finn knuckled his forehead to her.
‘I’m afraid, Lady Monson,’ said I, ‘that this sail will be carried away by the first puff, and it will be carried into the sea.’
‘If you remove it you leave us without shelter,’ she answered.
‘But we shall be without shelter if the wind removes it,’ said I.
‘Then it cannot be helped,’ she exclaimed, looking at me as though she found me irritating.
‘We shall have to carry this sail aft anyway,’ said I, pointing to the one that was spread upon the forecastle. ‘The first gust of wet will soak it through, and we shall not be able to use it until it is dry for fear of rheumatic fever.’
‘To what part do you wish it carried?’ said Laura.
‘To the only sheltered spot the ship supplies, the cabin,’ I answered.
‘You do not intend that we should sleep there, Charles?’ she cried.