Морський вовк

Chapter 27

           "IwishIhadthoughttobringWolfLarsen’schronometerandsextant,"Isaid,stillgloomily."Sailingonedirection,driftinganotherdirection,tosaynothingofthesetofthecurrentinsomethirddirection,makesaresultantwhichdeadreckoningcannevercalculate.Beforelongwewon’tknowwherewearebyfivehundredmiles."

           ThenIbeggedherpardonandpromisedIshouldnotbedisheartenedanymore.AthersolicitationIlethertakethewatchtillmidnightitwasthennineo’clock,butIwrappedherinblanketsandputanoilskinaboutherbeforeIlaydown.Isleptonlycat-naps.Theboatwasleapingandpoundingasitfelloverthecrests,Icouldheartheseasrushingpast,andspraywascontinuallybeingthrownaboard.Andstill,itwasnotabadnight,ImusednothingtothenightsIhadbeenthroughontheGhost;nothing,perhaps,tothenightsweshouldgothroughinthiscockle-shell.Itsplankingwasthree-quartersofaninchthick.Betweenusandthebottomoftheseawaslessthananinchofwood.

           Andyet,Iaverit,andIaveritagain,Iwasunafraid.ThedeathwhichWolfLarsenandevenThomasMugridgehadmademefear,Inolongerfeared.ThecomingofMaudBrewsterintomylifeseemedtohavetransformedme.Afterall,Ithought,itisbetterandfinertolovethantobeloved,ifitmakessomethinginlifesoworthwhilethatoneisnotloathtodieforit

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