Billy Byrne, sitting upon the corner of the galley table,
hobnobbed with Blanco. These choice representatives of the
ship's company were planning a raid on the skipper's brandy
chest during the disembarkation which the sight of land had
rendered not improbable.
The Halfmoon, with the wind down, wallowed heavily in
the trough of the sea, but even so Barbara Harding, wearied
with days of confinement in her stuffy cabin below, ventured
above deck for a breath of sweet, clean air.
Scarce had she emerged from below than Theriere espied
her, and hastened to her side.
"Well, Miss Harding," he exclaimed, "it seems good to see
you on deck again. I can't tell you how sorry I have felt for
you cooped up alone in your cabin without a single woman
for companionship, and all those frightful days of danger, for
there was scarce one of us that thought the old hooker would
weather so long and hard a blow. We were mighty fortunate
to come through it so handily."
"Handily?" queried Barbara Harding, with a wry smile,
glancing about the deck of the Halfmoon. "I cannot see that
we are either through it handily or through it at all. We have
no masts, no canvas, no boats; and though I am not much of
a sailor, I can see that there is little likelihood of our effecting
a landing on the shore ahead either with or without boats---it
looks most forbidding.
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