and fitful, above an immense waste of broken seas, as if seen through a
mad drift of smoke.

On the bridge a knot of men, indistinct and toiling, were making great
efforts in the light of the wheelhouse windows that shone mistily on
their heads and backs. Suddenly darkness closed upon one pane, then on
another. The voices of the lost group reached him after the manner of
men's voices in a gale, in shreds and fragments of forlorn shouting
snatched past the ear. All at once Jukes appeared at his side, yelling,
with his head down.

"Watch--put in--wheelhouse shutters--glass--afraid--blow in."

Jukes heard his commander upbraiding.

"This--come--anything--warning--call me."

He tried to explain, with the uproar pressing on his lips.

"Light air--remained--bridge--sudden--north-east--could
turn--thought--you--sure--hear."

They had gained the shelter of the weather-cloth, and could converse
with raised voices, as people quarrel.

"I got the hands along to cover up all the ventilators. Good job I had
remained on deck. I didn't think you would be asleep, and so . . . What
did you say, sir? What?"

"Nothing," cried Captain MacWhirr. "I said--all right."