knelt; but the change of posture was not worth the risk one ran for
it; there was too much danger of capsizing, and failing to free
oneself before she filled and sank.

With much caution I began breaking the bars, one by one; it was hard
enough, weak as I was; my thighs were of more service than my hands.

But at last I could sit, the grating only covering me from the knees
downwards. And the relief of that outweighed all the danger, which,
as I discovered to my untold joy, was now much less than it had been
before. I was better ballast than the fowls.

These I had attached to the lashings which had been blown asunder by
the explosion; at one end of the coop the ring-bolt had been torn
clean out, but at the other it was the cordage that had parted. To
the frayed ends I tied my fowls by the legs, with the most foolish
pride in my own cunning. Do you not see? It would keep them fresh
for my use, and it was a trick I had read of in no book; it was all
my own.

So evening fell and found me hopeful and even puffed up; but yet,
no sail.

Now, however, I could lie back, and use had given me a strange sense
of safety; besides, I think I knew, I hope I felt, that the hen-coop
was in other Hands than mine.

All is reaction in the heart of man; light follows darkness nowhere
more surely than in that hidden self, and now at sunset it was my
heart's high-noon. Deep peace pervaded me as I lay outstretched in