The boat instantly fell off into the wind, and, as she went round, David stood up in the stern-sheets and waved his cap to the men on board the lugger, who were watching him. The old man was seen to shake his head in answer to the signal, and point to his lug-sail standing flat as a board, and the next moment they parted company, and the lateen was running close-reefed before the wind. Mr. Talboys was sitting collapsed in the lethargy that precedes seasickness. He started up. “What are you doing?” he shrieked. “Keep quiet, sir, and don't bother,” said David, with calm sternness, and in his deepest tones. “Pray don't interfere with Mr. Dodd,” said Lucy; “he must know best.” “You don't see what he is doing, then,” cried Talboys, wildly; “the madman is taking us out to sea.” “Are you taking us out to sea, Mr. Dodd?” inquired Lucy, with dismay. “I am doing according to my judgment of tide and wind, and the abilities of the craft I am sailing,” said David, firmly; “and on board my own craft I am skipper, and skipper I will be. Go forward, sir, if you please, and don't speak except to obey orders.” Mr. Talboys, sick, despondent and sulky, went gloomily forward, coiled himself up under the forecastle deck, and was silent and motionless. “Don't send me,” cried Lucy, “for I will not go. Nothing but your eye keeps up my courage. I don't mind the water,” added she, hastily and a little timidly, anxious to meet every reason that could be urged for imprisoning her in the forecastle hold. “You are all right where you are, miss,” said Jack, cheerfully; “we shan't have no more spray come aboard us; it won't come in by the can full if it doesn't come by the ton.” “Will you belay your jaw?” roared David, in a fury that Lucy did not comprehend at the time. “What a set of tarnation babblers in one little boat.” “I won't speak any more, Mr. Dodd; I won't speak.” “Bless your heart, it isn't you I meant. 'Twould be hard if a lady might not put her word in. But a man is different. I do love to see a man belay his jaw, and wait for orders, and then do his duty; hoist the mainsel, you!” “Ay, ay, sir.” “Shake out a couple of reefs.” “Ay, ay, sir.” And the lateen spread both her great wings like an albatross, and leaped and plunged, and flew before the mighty gale. CHAPTER XVIII. “THIS is nice. The boat does not upset or tumble as it did. It only courtesies and plunges. I like it.” “The sea has not got up yet, miss,” said Jack. “Hasn't it? the waves seem very large.” “Lord love you, wait till we have had four or five hours more of this.” “Belay your jaw, Jack.” “Ay, ay, sir.” “Why so, Mr. Dodd?” objected Lucy gently. “I am not so weak as you think me. Do not keep the truth from me. I share the danger; let me share the sense of danger, too. You shall not blush for me.” “Danger? There is not a grain of it, unless we make danger by inattention--and babbling.” “You will not do that,” said Lucy. Equivoque missed fire.