was probably
sinking--imprisoned, I say, by reason of the construction of the
companion cover, which, when closed, was not to be opened from within.

I waited a few minutes with my lips set, wondering what was to happen
next, holding Grace close to me, and harkening with feverish ears for
the least sound of a human voice on deck. There was a second
blow--this time on the yacht's bow--followed by a sensation as of every
timber thrilling, and by a bolt-like thud of falling water, but this
time well forward. Immediately afterwards I heard Caudel shouting
close against the skylight, and I cannot express the emotion, in truth,
I may call it the transport of joy, his voice raised in me. It was
like being rescued from a dreadful death that an instant before seemed
certain.

I continued to wait, holding my darling to me; her head lay upon my
shoulder, and she rested as though in a swoon. The sight of her white
face was inexpressibly shocking to me, who very well knew that there
was nothing I could say to soften her terrors amid such a sea as the
yacht was now tumbling upon. Indeed, the vessel's motions had become
on a sudden violently heavy. I was never in such a sea before; that is
to say, in so small a vessel, and the leaping of the craft from peak to
base, and the dreadful careering of her as she soared, lying down on
her beam ends to the next liquid summit were absolutely soul subduing.

It was idle, however, to think of going on deck. I durst not leave my
darling alone lest she should swoon and be thrown down and injured,
perhaps killed; whilst, for myself, the legs of a man needed a longer
apprenticeship to the sea than ever I had served, or had the faintest
desire to serve, to qualify him for such capering planks as these, and
I was quite sure that if I wished to break my neck I had nothing more
to do than to make an attempt to stand.

Well, some twenty minutes, or, perhaps, half an hour passed, during all
which time I believed every moment to be our last, and I recollect
cursing myself for being the instrument of introducing the darling of
my heart into this abominable scene of storm in which, as I believed,
we were both to perish. Why had I not gone ashore yesterday? Did not
my instincts advise me to quit the sea and take the railway? Why had I
brought my pet away from the security of the Rue de Maquetra? Why, in
the name of all the virtues, was I so impatient that I could not wait
till she was of age, w