way back she
had taken her boots off. Owing to the absence of stockings her right
heel had become chafed and she had taken them off determining not to
wear them any more. She was kneeling now, bare-footed, taking the things
from Bompard's bundle and La Touche's remark made her look up. It was
the tone rather than the words that irritated her. The recollection of
an oilskin coat which she had used when fishing in Norway the year
before rose in her mind. It had been put away for a long time and when
taken out had been found all stuck up and quite ruined.

"You can't be much of a sailor," said she, "not to know that oilskin
doesn't stand packing. The men who buried these things did. If they had
known that you were so particular about rain they might have put in an
umbrella."

Dead silence followed this thrust of the tongue which she instantly
regretted, not because of hurting La Touche's feelings, but because she
instantly felt that it had helped to widen the division between her and
her mates. The extraordinary fact was that she, having assumed the
responsibility of office, was, seemingly, held responsible by the others
for all unpleasant happenings; she felt that the rain of Kerguelen was
now, in a way, being laid at her door.

Then, again, she had singled out La Touche as a direct opponent. She
felt that he and she were already matching each other and there was
likely to be a struggle between them for dominance.

Women have been gifted above men with an instinctive knowledge of
character. She divined in La Touche a character weak yet capable of
violence, incapable of leading yet jealous of being led, and especially
of being led by a woman. That was the danger point.

However, there was no use in trying to say anything smooth and she went
on with her work, helping to stow the things and, when that was
finished, taking off two of the blankets to her own cave.

A fire was impossible owing to the rain so they dined off biscuits and
canned stuff, cold.

Bompard and La Touche on this little expedition had discovered a water
source only a quarter of a mile inland, a deep pond cut in the rocks
and fed by the rains. Bompard referred to it as he ate.

"But as long as the boat holds together," said he, "we don't want to
bother about water; she'll catch and hold all we want. I've heard tell
it rains here months on end."

"When it's not blowing," said La Touche. Cleo said nothing. It came to
her almost as a new impression