“Keep her as she is—nothing to. If anything, keep her off. If I don’t wake before, call me at seven,” and turned in on the lockers.

But they didn’t have to call him, for in his sleep he felt the unusual motion. He rolled to his side and waited. A moment and she came up almost standing; another moment and she was tearing away. A minute or two and she was brought up again; another and she was off. Clancy stood up. The clock indicated a few minutes after six. Two or three of the crew, expecting the call to coffee—there had been no table since the beginning of the westerly—were already sitting around on the lockers. Again she fetched up, and again she was off again.

“How’s it above?” asked Clancy.

“’Bout the same; maybe a breath more wind, if anything.”

“Has it been going on for long, that luffing?”

“Since this man’s had the wheel.”

The unusual readiness to fix the blame arrested Clancy’s attention. Forgetfully he lowered his head to look up the companion-way to see who it was; but the boards which two days before had been set up to keep the deck water from the cabin were still there, and the man to the wheel could not be seen.

“And who is it?”

They were more than willing to tell him. “It’s the sail-carrier you shipped in Fortune Bay.”

“Oh-h—”

“And now that he’s to the wheel, his eyes are white with fear of the world to come.”

Clancy said nothing, but presently went on deck; and there stood by the wheel and casually observed the progress of things. No getting around it, ’twas a wild-looking morning for a vessel to be carrying all the sail she had in her locker.

With the master at his side the new man kept his nerve for perhaps five minutes, by which time he could stand it no more. In the face of a mountainous sea that looked as if it was surely going to engulf them, he hurriedly put down the wheel. Even while the wave was sweeping her decks, ere yet it had passed on, with its grand backwash receding musically down her sloping deck, Clancy was warning his helmsman.

“Don’t do that. Keep her to the course—nothing to. If anything, keep her off. A good full always to keep the life in her. That kind of work discourages a vessel; she’s going home, mind.”

“Yes, sir,” and on her course again was the Duncan put. And for perhaps another five minutes the new man held her to it; but the prospect proving too much for him, again he luffed her.

Clancy laid a gentle arm on the wheelsman’s shoulder and spoke softly.

“I told you not to do that, and you mustn’t. Don’t do it again. This one’s a little loose maybe, but she’ll take all you can give her. I know her better than you, mind, and I’m telling you to trust her. And even if she wasn’t reliable, which she is, mind—this is no time for jogging. We’re going home, going home, boy, and a good full’s what she wants.”

After that Clancy thought the man was cured. But no. Five minutes perhaps and again she was luffed.