h along the bridge to the poop.

I saw Mr. Pike nod his head grimly and sarcastically. He had already
seen it from the lee-poop, and what he had not seen he had guessed. A
score of times I saw him test the weight of the gusts on his cheek and
with all the brain of him study the _Elsinore's_ behaviour. And I knew
what was in his mind. Could she carry what she had? Could she carry
more?

Small wonder, in this tense passage of time, that I had forgotten the
Samurai. Nor did I remember him until the chart-house door swung open
and I caught him by the arm. He steadied and swayed beside me, while he
watched that cruel picture of rock and snow and spouting surf.

"A good full!" Mr. Pike snarled. "Or I'll eat your heart out. God damn
you for the farmer's hound you are, Tom Spink! Ease her! Ease her! Ease
her into the big ones, damn you! Don't let her head fall off! Steady!
Where in hell did you learn to steer? What cow-farm was you raised on?"

Here he bounded for'ard past us with those incredible leaps of his.

"It would be good to set the mizzen-topgallant," I heard Captain West
mutter in a weak, quavery voice. "Mr. Pathurst, will you please tell Mr.
Pike to set the mizzen-topgallant?"

And at that very instant Mr. Pike's voice rang out from the break of the
poop:

"Mr. Mellaire!--the mizzen-topgallant!"

Captain West's head drooped until his chin rested on his breast, and so
low did he mutter that I leaned to hear.

"A very good officer," he said. "An excellent officer. Mr. Pathurst, if
you will kindly favour me, I should like to go in. I . . . I haven't got
on my boots."

The muscular feat was to open the heavy iron door and hold it open in the
rolls and plunges. This I accomplished; but when I had helped Captain
West across the high threshold he thanked me and waived further services.
And I did not know even then he was dying.

Never was a Blackwood ship driven as was the _Elsinore_ during the next
half-hour. The full-jib was also set, and, as it departed in shreds, the
fore-topmast staysail was being hoisted. For'ard of the 'midship-house
it was made unlivable by the bursting seas. Mr. Mellaire, with half the
crew, clung on somehow on top the 'midship-house, while the rest of the
crew was with us in the comparative safety of the poop. Even Charles
Davis, drenched and shivering, hung on beside me to the brass ring-handle
of the chart-house door.

Such sailing! It was a madness of spee