Mab still held the rudder-lines. She sat in the stern, a serene and
smiling vision, while Merefleet toiled with one oar to counteract the
growing strength of the off-shore wind. But she very soon put down her
sunshade, and he saw that she must speedily be drenched to the skin. For
the rain was heavy, drifting over the water in thick, grey gusts. They
were being driven steadily eastwards out to sea.
"I don't think my steering makes much difference, Big Bear," she said,
after a long silence.
"No," said Merefleet. "It would take all the strength of two rowers to
make headway against this wind."
He shipped his oar with the words and began to take off his coat. Mab
watched him with some wonder. He was seated on the thwart nearest to
her. He stooped forward at length very cautiously and, taking the
rudder-lines from her, made them fast.
"Now get into this!" he said. "Mind you don't upset the boat!"
She stared at him for one speechless second. Then:
"No, I won't, Big Bear," she declared emphatically. "Put it on again at
once! Do you suppose I'll sit here in your coat while you shiver in
nothing but flannels?"
"Do as I say!" said Merefleet, with a grim hardening of the jaw.
And quite meekly she obeyed. There was something about him that inspired
her with awe at that moment. She felt as if she had run against some
obstacle in the dark.
The rain began to beat down in great, shifting clouds.
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