Divers Perils and Dangers at Sea

"Are you hurt?" she questioned, stooping over me; whereupon (for very shame) I turned my back answering short and ungraciously, and sat frowning like the sullen rogue I was whiles she busily set forth the wherewithal to break our fast, and singing softly to herself.

"I told you I was an ill rogue and rough!" says I, bitterly.

"Why so you did," says she, meeting my scowl with her wide, calm gaze. "Also you are hungry, and the food is unspoiled despite the storm--come and eat!"

So I ate (though with mighty ill grace) and found little savour in the food for all my hunger; but she waited on my wants with heedful care, my surliness notwithstanding.

"Whose was the hand set this boat adrift, think you?" says I suddenly.

"Nay, 'twas too dark to see!"

"'Twas Penfeather!" says I, clenching my fist. "Aye it was Adam, I'll stake my life on't!"

"Then Poor Master Adam!" she sighed.

"How? Will you pity a rogue?"

"I speak of Master Penfeather," says she. "If he indeed cut the boat adrift it was doubtless because the battle was going against him and he did this to save me!" Hereupon I laughed and she, flushing angrily, turns her back on me.

"Pray you," she questioned, "when may we hope to reach the island and be free of each other?"

"To-night or to-morrow, unless the storm hath driven us further than I judge." And now, our meal done, she sets away everything in its appointed place and thereafter sat watching the sea all foam and sparkle beneath the young sun. And presently a sigh brake from her and she turned, her anger forgotten quite.