"An' whut dey done give yer?"

"My sentence, you mean--twenty years."

"Lordy! dat's sure tough. Well, I reckon yer done know yer job all
right, so I'll just leave yer here awhile, an' go forrard an' git a
snack. Ain't eat nuthin' fer quite a spell. Ah'll be back afore yer
'round de point yonder."

I was alone at the wheel, the sloop in my control, and somehow as I
stood there, grasping those spokes, the swift boat leaping forward
through the water, leaning recklessly over before the force of the
wind, the numbing sense of helpless servitude left me in a new return
of manhood and responsibility. It was a scene of exhilaration, the
sun, still partially obscured by misty clouds already well down in the
western sky, with the tossing waves of the Bay foam-crested. The
distant headlands appeared spectral and gray through the vapor, while
the waters beyond took on the tint of purple shadows. The _Adele_
responded to the helm gallantly, the spreading canvas above standing
out like a board, a broad wake of white foam spreading far astern. Not
another sail appeared across that troubled surface of waters, not even
a fisherman's boat, the only other vessel visible along our course
being a dim outline close in against that far-away headland toward
which I had been instructed to steer. I stared at this indistinct
object, at first believing it a wreck, but finally distinguishing the
bare masts of a medium-sized bark, evidently riding at anchor only a
few hundred yards off shore.

Satisfied as to this, my glance shifted to our own decks, feeling a