Part 22 (1/2)
”What are you doing?”
”I am about to head the boat for the sh.o.r.e,” suiting the action to the word.
Her eyes blazed. ”Did you not hear me say that I wished to proceed to Rosemead?”
”Yes, madam, I did.”
”I order you, sir--”
”And I choose to disobey.”
”I shall report you to Colonel Verney.”
”As you please, madam.”
From the prow, where he had been taking observations, Regulus cried in a startled voice: ”De win 's comin'! De win 's comin' mighty quick!”
Landless thrust the tiller into Patricia's hands. ”Keep it there, just where it is, for your life!” he cried authoritatively, and bounded forward to where Regulus was already struggling with the sail. They got it in and lashed to the mast just in time, for, with the shriek of a thousand demons, the squall whirled itself upon them. In an instant they were enveloped in a blinding horror of furious wind and rain, glare of lightning and incessant, ear-splitting thunder. A leaden darkness, illuminated only by the lightning, settled around them, and the air grew suddenly cold. Beneath the whip of the wind the Chesapeake woke from slumber, stirred, and rose in fury. The Bluebird danced dizzily upon white crests or swooped into black and yawning chasms. Steadying himself by the thwarts, Landless went back to Patricia, sitting pale and with clasped hands, but making no sound. Darkeih, with a moan of fear, had thrown herself down at her mistress' feet, and was hiding her face in her skirts. Landless took a scarf from among the pile of cus.h.i.+ons, and wrapped it around Patricia. ”'Tis a poor protection against wet and cold,” he said, ”but it is better than nothing.”
”Thank you,” she said then, with an effort. ”Do you think this squall will last long?”
”I cannot tell, madam. It is rather a hurricane than a squall. But we must do the best we can.”
As he spoke there came a fresh access of wind with a glare of intolerable light. The mast bent like a reed, snapped off clear to the foot and fell inward, the loosened beam striking Regulus upon the head, and bearing him down with it. The boat careened violently, and half filled with water. Darkeih screamed, and Patricia sprang to her feet, but sat down again at Landless' stern command, ”Sit still! She will right in a moment.”
He lifted and flung overboard the ma.s.s of splintered wood and flapping cloth, then fell to bailing with all his might, for the danger of swamping was imminent. Presently Patricia touched him upon the arm. ”I will bail if you will see to Regulus,” she said, in a low, strained voice. ”I think he is dead.”
Landless resigned the pail into her hands and lifted the negro's head and shoulders from the water in which he was lying, pillowing them upon the stern seat. He was unconscious, and bleeding from a cut on the forehead.
”He is not dead nor like to die,” Landless said. ”He will revive before long.”
The girl gave a long, quivering sigh of relief. Landless finished the bailing and sat down at her feet.
Some time later she asked faintly: ”Do you not think the worst is over now?”
”I am afraid not,” he answered gently. ”There is a lull now, but I am afraid the storm is but gathering its forces. But we will hope for the best--”
Another flash and crash cut him short. It was followed by rain that fell, not in drops, but in sheets. The wind, which had been blowing a heavy gale, rose suddenly into a tornado. With it rose the sea. The ma.s.ses of water, hissing and smoking under the furious pelting of the rain, flung themselves upon the hapless Bluebird, laboring heavily in the trough of the waves, or staggering over their summits. A constant glare lit the heaving, tossing world of waters, and the air became one roar of wind, rain, and thunder.
Darkeih crouched moaning at her mistress' feet. Regulus lay unconscious, breathing heavily. Suddenly, with a quick intake of his breath, Landless seized Patricia, pulled her down into the bottom of the boat, and held her there.
”I see,” she said in a low, awed voice. ”It is Death!”
Through the glare a long green wall bore down upon them. The Bluebird leaped to meet it. It lifted her up, up to meet the lightning, then hurled her into black depths, and pa.s.sed on, leaving her staggering in the trough, water-logged and helpless.
CHAPTER XVI
THE FACE IN THE DARK