A Hero for Leanda

said, “I might get some inkling.”
    “I’d sooner talk in English, but I can’t if he starts the other way, and he hates using it when he doesn’t have to.... Anyway, that isn’t really very important, is it? Mike, we’ve got to make a fresh start, all of us. This trip is going to be absolute hell if you two are at loggerheads—you’ve got to make it up.”
    “Then he’d better apologize!”
    “Mike, you know he won’t do that—any more than you will. You’re both proud and pigheaded. He’s—well, an emperor, if you like—and you’re an Irishman! Now do be sensible, please!” She put her hand on his. “Meet him halfway.”
    “What do you call halfway?”
    “He’ll take your orders. You’ll give them nicely.” Conway looked down at her pleading face—and slowly he smiled. “Well, that sounds fair enough, I must say.... You’re quite a diplomat, aren’t you?”
    She sighed. “I need to be!” she said.

    By evening, it was clear to all of them that a violent change in the weather was imminent. The sun went down in a sickly, yellowish-green sky. The sea looked oily and sinister. To the south, great black and purple clouds were piling up like an atomic mushroom. Conway took three careful star sights before darkness finally closed in, and got a good fix. Then he made a round of the ship, seeing that the forehatch was tightly closed, the ports screwed up, and the contents of the lockers well chocked. Kastella, amiable again after their reconciliation and anxious to lend a hand, helped him put an extra lashing on the dinghy. Afterward, Conway went forward to the forepeak and brought up two long warps, and the sea anchor.
    Kastella looked curiously at the conical canvas bag, with its iron ring sewn at the mouth. “What’s it for, Conway ?“
    “To ride to if the wind gets too strong,” Conway told him. “Or to slow the ship down if we have to run before the wind.”
    “Why does she have to be slowed down?”
    “If the ship goes faster than the following seas, the waves break over her stern. If she goes slower, they pass harmlessly underneath. We hope!”
    “And will this thing really hold her back?”
    “It will indeed. It’s got a terrific drag in the water.” Conway put it on one of the bunks, just inside the saloon door. “Leanda, what about making a flask of coffee while we’re still on an even keel... I advise Dramamine for all hands, too!”
    He went out into the cockpit and inspected the menacing cloud mass that was steadily rolling up from the south. It looked horrible. The glass was still falling. The air was like a clammy hand. He had already close-reefed the mainsail and bent on the small jib, but now he decided it would be wiser not to risk light canvas at all. He climbed to the coach roof and lashed the sail to the boom and the boom securely down. Then he fetched the heavy trysail and storm jib, with their strong bolt ropes and fittings, and bent those on instead.
    The storm broke with staggering suddenness. At one moment, all was calm and quiet; the next, a vivid fork of lightning split the sky, and the heavens opened. In the cockpit, it was like sitting under a warm waterfall. Leanda and Kastella dived for the cabin; Conway , still wearing nothing but shorts, let the water pour off him, and watched the storm. The downpour continued for half an hour, with incessant lightning and crashing thunder. Then, as the rain stopped, a wind came howling out of the south. Conway grabbed the trysail’s double sheet, the sail filled, and in a moment Thalia was racing away at top speed. Conway braced himself against the gunwale, shaking the water out of his eyes. It was good to be sailing again, whatever was in store. This was going to be Thalia’s real test, and he hadn’t a doubt she would come through it well. Already he had an owner’s pride in her.
    The wind increased steadily, backing to the east, and whipping up a big sea. Thalia’s motion became lively, and dollops of spray started coming over into the cockpit. Nasty-looking seas began rolling up astern. Conway steered carefully, meeting them exactly stern on, watching for any sign of a jibe. Still the wind strengthened. Soon it was blowing at force seven, and they were beginning to make too much speed for safety. Conway pulled the jib to windward, hauled in the mainsheet, and lashed the helm halfway. He wanted to see how Thalia would he hove to, though he hadn’t any great expectations. In fact she heeled