Page:Ballinger Price--Fortune of the Indies.djvu/139

 seas that flung themselves upon her out of the dark. But the captain knew his vessel. He let her alone, and, struggling and lifting, she gradually found her own bearings and hove herself to.

Alan sat at his post, ready to fling a swift S. O. S. into the storm if he should hear the order; meanwhile watching the gaunt seas catch and worry the ship, showing sharp fangs of white water about her. Mark, deep in the engine-room never knew quite how wild a night it was; Alan, shut off from the activity of the rest of the ship, seemed alone with the storm. Suddenly, as never before, he felt the stir of the Ingram sea-blood. His grandfather, his great-grandfather, had weathered worse gales than this in ships the Delphian could stow in her cargo-hold. They had mastered great winds with matchless seamanship, challenged them with split canvas, and driven through ice-bound Antarctic seas under bare poles. All at once the Delphian seemed a poor thing, cringing helpless, with nothing to aid her, now that her engine was still. Alan suddenly understood some of Jane's proud disdain for steam and felt a kindling flash of