strolled the poop in his usual casual way, and gave no orders at all,
save in low conventional tones, when Mr. Pike came upon the poop and
conferred with him.

Miss West, having deserted the scene five minutes before, returned, a
proper sea-woman, clad in oil-skins, sou'wester, and long sea-boots.
She ordered me, quite peremptorily, to do the same. But I could not
bring myself to leave the deck for fear of missing something, so I
compromised by having Wada bring my storm-gear to me.

And then the wind came, smack out of the blackness, with the
abruptness of thunder and accompanied by the most diabolical thunder.
And with the rain and thunder came the blackness. It was tangible.
It drove past us in the bellowing wind like so much stuff that one
could feel. Blackness as well as wind impacted on us. There is no
other way to describe it than by the old, ancient old, way of saying
one could not see his hand before his face.

"Isn't it splendid!" Miss West shouted into my ear, close beside me,
as we clung to the railing of the break of the poop.

"Superb!" I shouted back, my lips to her ear, so that her hair
tickled my face.

And, I know not why--it must have been spontaneous with both of us--
in that shouting blackness of wind, as we clung to the rail to avoid
being blown away, our hands went out to each other and my hand and
hers gripped and pressed and then held mutually to the rail.

"Daughter of Herodias," I commented grimly to myself; but my hand did