to get some whisky down Wyllard's throat, and then he set to
work to wash the scalp wound, dropping into the water a little of the
permanganate of potash, which is freely used at sea. When that was done
he applied a rag dipped in the same fluid, and seeing no result of his
efforts went back on deck. He was anxious about his patient, but not
unduly so, for he had discovered long ago that men of Wyllard's type are
apt to recover from more serious injuries.

It was blowing very hard when the skipper stood near the wheel. A steep
sea was already tumbling after the schooner, but she was, at least,
heading out from where they supposed the ice to be, and he let her go,
keeping her away before it, and heading a little south of east. The next
morning the sea was very high, and the faint light was further dimmed by
snow, but it seemed safe to Dampier, and the vessel held on while the
big combers came up astern and forged by high above her rail.

The _Selache_ was traveling fast to the eastward. She was under
boom-foresail and one little jib, with her mainmast broken short off
where the bolts of the halliard blocks had traversed it. Dampier
realized that every knot the vessel made then could not be recovered
that season. He wondered, with a little uneasiness, what Wyllard would
say when he came to himself again.

Next day the breeze moderated somewhat, and they let the schooner come
up a little, heading further south. On the morning after that Wyllard
showed signs of returning consciousness. Dampier, however, kept away
from him, partly to allow his senses to readjust themselves, and partly
because he shrank from the necessary interview. When dusk was falling,
Charly went on deck to say that Wyllard, who seemed perfectly conscious,
insisted on seeing the skipper, and with some misgivings Dampier went
down into the little cabin. The lamp was lighted, and when he sat down
Wyllard, who raised himself feebly on his pillow, turned a pallid face
to him.

"Charly tells me you picked the boat up," he said.

"We did," answered Dampier. "She had three or four planks on one side
ripped out of her."

Wyllard's faint grimace implied that this did not matter, and Dampier
braced himself for the question he dreaded. He had to face it another
moment.

"How's she heading?"

"A little south of east."

Wyllard's face hardened. It was still blowing moderately and by the
heave of the vessel and the wash of water outside he could guess how
fa