Vane of the Timberlands | Page 8

not; but there's one consolation--if this wind is from the
northwest, which is most likely, it will be a fast run to Victoria. Guess
I'll try to get some sleep."
He disappeared down a scuttle forward, leaving Vane somewhat
disturbed in mind. He had contemplated taking his guests for merely a
few hours' run, but to have them on board for, perhaps, several days
was a very different thing. Besides, he was far from sure that they
would understand the necessity for keeping them, and in that case the
situation might become difficult. In the meanwhile, the sloop drove on,
until at last, toward morning, the beach fell back on either hand and she
met the long swell tumbling in from the Pacific. The wind was from the
northwest and blowing moderately hard; there was no light as yet in the
sky above the black heights to the east; and the onrushing swell grew
higher and steeper, breaking white here and there. The sloop plunged
over it wildly, hurling the spray aloft; and it cost Vane a determined
effort to haul in his sheets as the wind drew ahead. Shortly afterward,
the beach faded altogether on one hand, and the sea piled up madly into

foaming ridges. It seemed most improbable that the steamer would run
in to land her Indian passengers, but Vane drove the sloop on, with
showers of stinging brine beating into her wet canvas and whirling
about him.
As the Pacific opened up, he found it necessary to watch the seas that
came charging down upon her. They were long and high, and most of
them were ridged with seething foam. With a quick pull on the tiller, he
edged her over them, and a cascade swept her forward as she plunged
across their crests. Though there were driving clouds above him, it was
not very dark and he could see for some distance. The long ranks of
tumbling combers did not look encouraging, and when the plunges
grew sharper and the brine began to splash across the coaming that
protected the well he wished that they had hauled down a second reef.
He could not shorten sail unassisted, however; nor could he leave the
helm to summon Carroll, who was evidently sleeping soundly in the
forecastle, without rousing his passengers, which he did not desire to
do.
A little while later he noticed that a stream of smoke was pouring from
the short funnel of the stove and soon afterward the cabin slide opened.
Miss Blake crept out and stood in the well, gazing forward while she
clutched the coaming.
Day was now breaking, and Vane could see that the girl's thin dress
was blown flat against her. There was something graceful in her pose,
and it struck him again that her figure was daintily slender. She wore
no hat, and it was evident that the wild plunging had no effect on her.
He waited uneasily until she turned and faced him.
"We are going out to sea," she said. "Where's the steamer?"
It was a question Vane had dreaded; but he answered it honestly.
"I can't tell you. It's very likely that she has gone straight on to
Victoria."
He saw the suspicion in her suddenly hardening face, but the quick

anger in it pleased him. He had not expected her to be prudish, but it
was clear that the situation did not appeal to her.
"You expected this when you asked us to come on board!" she cried.
"No," Vane replied quietly; "on my honor, I did nothing of the kind.
There was only a moderate breeze when we left, and when it freshened
enough to make it unlikely that the steamer would run in, I was as
vexed as you seem to be. As it happened, I couldn't go back; I must get
on to Victoria as soon as possible."
She looked at him searchingly, but he fancied that she was slightly
comforted.
"Can't you put us ashore?"
"It might be possible if I could find a sheltered beach farther on, but it
wouldn't be wise. You would find yourselves twenty or thirty miles
from the nearest settlement, and you could never walk so far through
the bush."
"Then what are we to do?"
There was distress in the cry, and Vane answered it in his most
matter-of-fact tone.
"So far as I can see, you can only reconcile yourselves to staying on
board. We'll have a fresh, fair wind for Victoria, once we're round the
next head, and with moderate luck we ought to get there late to-night"
"You're sure?"
Vane felt sorry for her.
"I'm afraid I can't even promise that; it depends upon the weather," he
replied. "But you mustn't stand there in the spray. You're getting wet
through."
She still