The helm was pulling hard, but Ulrica managed it as easily and as knowingly as she had managed the setting of the sail—standing with her feet well apart, firmly braced3, her tall figure yielding to the boat's motion with a superb grace. Suddenly a gust4 of wind carried away her hat, and in another moment the great mass of her golden hair was blowing out behind her in the strong eddy5 from the sail. Her face was radiant. Every drop of her Norse blood was tingling6 in her veins7. Aslauga herself never was more gloriously beautiful—and never more joyously8 drove her boat onward9 through a stormy sea.
[99]
But Maltham did not perceive her beauty, nor did he in the least share her glowing enthusiasm. He had passed beyond mere10 nervousness and was beginning to be frightened. It seemed to him that she let the boat fall off purposely—as though to give the waves a chance to buffet11 it, and then to show her command over them by bringing it up again sharply into the wind; and he was certain that if they carried on for another five minutes, and so got outside the inlet, they would be swamped.
"Don't you think that we had better go about?" he asked. It did not please him to find that he had not complete control over his voice.
"But it is so glorious," she answered. "Shall we not keep on just a little way?"
"No!" he said sharply. "We must go about at once. We are in great danger as it is." He felt that he had turned pale. In spite of his strong effort to steady it, his voice shook badly and also was a little shrill12.
"Oh, of course," she replied, with a queer glance at him that he did not at all fancy; "if you feel that way about it we will." The radiance died away from her face as she spoke13, and with it went her intoxication14 of delight. And[100] then her expression grew anxious as she looked about her, and in an anxious tone she added: "Indeed you are quite right, Mr. Maltham. We really are in a bad place here. I ought never to have come out so far. We must try to get back at once. But it will not be easy. I am not sure that the Nixie will stand it. I am sure, though, that she will do her best—and I will try to wear her as soon as I see a chance."
She luffed a little, that she might get more sea-room to leeward15, and scanned the oncoming waves closely but without a sign of fear. "Now I think I can do it," she said presently, and put up the helm.
It was a ticklish16 move, for they were at the very mouth of the inlet, but the Nixie paid off steadily17 until she came full into the trough of the sea. There she wallowed for a bad ten seconds. A wave broke over the coaming of the cockpit and set it all aflow. Maltham went still whiter, and began to take off his coat. It was with the greatest difficulty that he kept back a scream. Then the boat swung around to her course—Ulrica's hold upon the tiller was a very steady one—and in another minute they were sliding back safely before the wind. In five[101] minutes more they were in the smooth water of the bay.
Ulrica was the first to speak, and she spoke in most contrite18 tones. "It was very, very wrong in me to do that, Mr. Maltham," she said. "And it was wicked of me, too—for I have given my solemn promise to father that I never will go out on the lake when it is rough at all. Please, please forgive me for taking you into such danger in such a foolish way. It was touch and go, you know, that we pulled through. Please say that you forgive me. It will make me a little less wretched if you do."
The danger was all over, and Maltham had got back both his color and his courage again. "Why, it was nothing!" he said. "Or, rather, it was a good deal—for it gave me a chance to see what a magnificent sailor you are. And—and it was splendidly exciting out there, wasn't it?"
"Wasn't it!" she echoed rapturously. "And oh," she went on, "I am so glad that you take it that way! It is a real load off my mind! Will you please take the tiller for a minute while I put up my hair?"
As she arranged the shining masses of her golden hair—her full round arms uplifted, the[102] wind pressing her draperies close about her—Maltham watched her with a burning intentness. The glowing reaction following escape from mortal peril19 was upon him and the tide of his barely saved life was running full. In Ulrica's stronger nature the same tide may have been running still more impetuously. For an instant their eyes met. She flushed and looked away.
He did not speak, and the silence seemed to grow irksome to her. She broke it, but with a perceptible effort, as she took the tiller again. "Do you know," she said, "I did think for a minute that you were scared." She laughed a little, and then went on more easily: "And if you really had been scared I should have known, of course, that you were not a gentleman! Was it not absurd?"
Her words roused him, and at the same time chilled him. "Yes, it was very absurd," he answered not quite easily. And then, with presence of mind added: "But I was scared, and badly scared—for you. I did not see how I possibly could get you ashore20 if the boat filled."
"You could not have done it—we should have been drowned," Ulrica replied with quiet[103] conviction. "But because you are a gentleman it was natural, I suppose, for you not to think about yourself and to worry that way about me. You could not help it, of course—but I like it, all the same."
Maltham reddened slightly. Instead of answering her he asked: "Would you mind running up along the Point and landing me on the other side of the canal? I want to hurry home and get into dry things—and that will save me a lot of time, you know."
"Oh," she cried in a tone of deep concern, "are you not coming back with me? I shall have a dreadful time with father, and I am counting on you to help me through."
Maltham had foreseen that trouble with the Major was impending21, and wanted to keep out of it. He disliked scenes. "Of course, if you want me to, I'll go back with you," he answered. And added, drawing himself together and shivering a little, "I don't believe that I shall catch much cold."
"What a selfish creature I am!" Ulrica exclaimed impetuously. "Of course you must hurry home as fast as you can. What I shall get from father will not be the half of what I deserve. And to think of my thinking about[104] your getting me off from a scolding at the cost of your being ill! Please do not hate me for it—though you ought to, I am sure!"
Having carried his point, Maltham could afford to be amiable22 again. He looked straight into her eyes, and for an instant touched her hand, as he said: "No, I shall not—hate you!" His voice was low. He drawled slightly. The break gave to his phrase a telling emphasis.
It was not quite fair. He knew thoroughly23 the game that he was playing; while Ulrica, save so far as her instinct might guide her, did not know it at all. She did not answer him—and he was silent because silence just then was the right move. And so they went on without words until they were come to the landing-place beside the canal. Even then—for he did not wish to weaken a strong impression—he made the parting a short one: urging that she also must hurry home and get on dry clothes. It did not strike her, either then or later, that he would have shown a more practical solicitude24 in the premises25 had he not made her come three miles out of her way.
Indeed, as she sailed those three miles back again, her mind was in no condition to work[105] clearly. In a confused way, that yet was very delightful26, she went over to herself the events of that wonderful day—in which, as she vaguely27 realized, her girlhood had ended and her womanhood had begun. But she dwelt most upon the look that he had given her when he told her, with the break in his phrase, that he would not hate her; and upon the touch of his hand at parting, and his final speech, also with a break in it: "I shall see you to-morrow—if you care to have me come."
At the club that evening Maltham wrote a very entertaining letter to Miss Eleanor Strangford, in Chicago: telling her about the queer old Major and his half-wild daughter, and how the daughter had taken him out sailing and had brought him back drenched28 through. He was a believer in frankness, and this letter—while not exhaustive—was of a sort to put him right on the record in case an account of his adventures should reach his correspondent by some other way. He would have written it promptly29 in any circumstances. It was the more apposite because he had promised to write every Sunday to Miss Strangford—to whom he was engaged.
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1
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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3
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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8
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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buffet
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| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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13
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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15
leeward
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| adj.背风的；下风的 | |
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16
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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contrite
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| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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28
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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