The company fled, some to a larboard
stair, some to a starboard. Hugh and Ramsey suddenly missed the
Gilmores, the Gilmores missed them, each pair turned to find the other,
the lashing rain leaped down upon them as if they were all it had come
for, and with words lost in a second thunder-clap the mate threw open
the captain's room, pressed them in, and began to dry them with a
whisk-broom. The captain, he said, was below. "Off watch didn't mean off
watch to John Courteney."
"Nor to Gideon Hayle," prompted Ramsey, and while he ha-haed a cordial
assent she asked: "Whereabouts below is he--Captain Courteney?" But the
mate had turned away and she asked Hugh: "Where's your father? What's he
doing?" Her thought was still on the unmentionable new case.
"I'll tell you," said Hugh in the low voice she liked so well. "Will you
look at the river with me?"
He felt her responsive nod and smile even after they had moved to the
front window farthest from their three seniors and stood gazing out into
the beautiful tempest. Both wind and downpour had somewhat slackened
their fury. A bit nearer than before and more to starboard they could
faintly make out the _Antelope_, so white that it seemed as if she had
gone down and her ghost come up wrapped and whipped in sheets of rain.
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