When she first crawled out of the small cabin where Jean Le Dru had placed her to be a little out of the wet, it seemed to her that the world was disintegrating around her. Murky clouds scurried across an inky sky beneath which the sea was erupting in all directions. The two men had lowered the sail but still the boat was dancing like a cork in the boiling waters. From time to time, it plunged into a wall of mist so thick that it was hard to tell whether it belonged to the sky or was cast up as spray by the raging sea. They would emerge for a moment, only to rush headlong into another bank of mist. It seemed as though some giant hand took hold of the little sloop and hurled it like a ball through the midst of the storm, now and then dropping it for a moment only to pick it up again and toss it further.

But what frightened Marianne most of all was the faces of the two men. Through the waves crashing over the side, she glimpsed Black Fish, still clinging to the wheel, his back bent against the raging wind. Jean was finishing sewing the sail, fighting against the blinding sea. Both were soaked to the skin but they seemed not to care, though their tense faces betrayed their anxiety.

Black Fish saw Marianne and yelled above the wind.

'Stay in the cabin! You've no business here. You'll get in the way and risk being swept overboard!'

'I can't breathe down there,' she shouted back. 'I'd rather be out here—'

Jean hurried over to her, put his arms round her and tried to force her back inside but she clung to him.

'Please, let me stay with you – I'm frightened, all alone—'

She broke off as a wave hit her. Another followed and she was soaked from head to foot but only clung more firmly to her companion. In the same instant, a cry of terror escaped them both. The mist had parted suddenly revealing a sheer black cliff rising directly ahead. Their cry was echoed by the helmsman.

Jean caught Marianne to him instinctively. Convinced that their last hour had come, she closed her eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder. The young man's arms were so strong and reassuring that she found to her surprise her fear lessened. In a moment or two she was going to die in the arms of a stranger and yet, deep down, it did not seem to matter very much. Perhaps it was even right that it should be so since her life had fallen into this meaningless idiocy. It felt good to be held close against a man's chest and, was she dreaming or was a pair of warm lips pressed to her forehead?

But the crash never came. Black Fish wrenched at the helm and the small boat went about so suddenly that Marianne and Jean lost their balance and tumbled on the deck. When Marianne opened her eyes again the glistening wall of rock was slipping past within an arm's length of the ship's quarter. Behind her, she heard the seaman cursing with a violence in keeping with the fright he had had.

'What was that—?' asked Jean Le Dru.

'The Dover rocks, I think,' Black Fish answered. 'I did not think we were so near. We had a lucky escape!'

To restore himself, he called for the flask of rum, swallowed a large draught and then devoted himself once more to steering the sloop, which, once past the rocks, was heading into a fresh bank of mist and spray. But Jean was worried and showed it.

'How came we near the Dover rocks? They are not on our course.'

'I'm doing my best,' Black Fish growled. 'My compass is all to pieces. I'm steering by guesswork.'

'Then the Virgin and St Anne d'Auray protect us.'

This pious wish was lost in the howling of the wind which just then redoubled its violence. A wave crashed over the side, and Jean led the gasping Marianne firmly back to the tiny cabin. Black Fish alone remained, standing amidst the tempest like Atlas bearing the world on his shoulders.


***

'Ship ahead! We're saved!'

There was both triumph and relief in Black Fish's voice. He was echoed by Marianne and Jean. For hours they had been running blindly before the storm. The Seagull's case had been desperate. Not many cables' lengths from the dread Dover rocks, an underwater reef had damaged the rudder. They had tried to hoist the sails but these were carried away when the mast collapsed before a gust of exceptional force. Since then, the vessel had drifted, blind and helpless, at the mercy of the untrammelled waves. The worst moment for Marianne had been when she saw Black Fish leave the helm to come and sit with Jean and herself. She had grown used to seeing the enormous sailor as a kind of ocean god, as much a part of his vessel as of the sea itself. The boat was soundly built and yet the storm had battered it savagely, the man seemed indestructible and yet he too was beaten. In her wretchedness, she could not help saying: 'Is there no hope?'

Black Fish shrugged. 'What else can I do?' he said gruffly. 'Row? You can try it if you like but I've done all I can. Now, it's in the lap of the gods.'

He pulled his sodden and ridiculous hat down over his eyes irritably, as though he meant to sleep, but his eyes, beneath the dripping brim, were watchful. He was the first to spot the stern lights of a vessel which in their present situation was a blessing from heaven.

'We are saved,' Marianne repeated, her nerves too much on edge to feel much relief. 'Saved!'

But Jean was less optimistic.

'Wait and see what vessel she is first,' he growled. 'They may be pirates and refuse to take us aboard. We're not much in the way of a prize. Or they may be English and send me back to the hulks.'

But Marianne could not believe that the captain of any vessel could be so heartless as to send three luckless passengers aboard a fishing boat coolly to their deaths on such a black and dreadful night. Eyes smarting from the salt and so wet through that she could no longer even imagine what it was to be dry, she gazed with passionate intensity at the twin stars dancing in the murk, reminding her of the big ships she had seen in Plymouth Harbour, as stout and comforting as a warm inn at the end of a wintry frozen forest. How she longed to escape from this hell of wind and water, the cold and fear! In this moment of great peril, she was once again a terrified child, grasping at the least protection, the smallest help, the slightest hope, only so she might be less cold and frightened.

'The wind's driving us towards her,' Black Fish said. He was clinging to the halyards and peering into the darkness. Almost at once, he gave another, louder shout.

'We must be near a harbour. I can see another light to starboard.'

He broke off with a gasp while Marianne flung herself into Jean's arms with a shriek of terror. The darkness had lightened suddenly and in that instant the shape of a huge reef slipped by to starboard at an alarming rate, followed by another. The rudderless sloop was driving forward like the wind and the lights of the vessel ahead were drawing nearer at a dizzying rate. Soon, its shape could be seen, dark against the sky. Then all at once, a sliver of moonlight slipped between the clouds and lighted on the boiling waters, revealing the tragic outline of a big merchantman yawing drunkenly amid the battering of the hissing, foaming waters beneath her. Her tall sails hung like wet rags uselessly from masts like black and naked trees. At the same time, huge glistening rocks, carved in fantastic shapes, appeared for an instant and were gone, rocks whereon danced the second light which Black Fish had taken for the entry to a harbour. Jean Le Dru's shriek nearly burst Marianne's eardrum.

'Wreckers!'

He shook his fist wildly at the coast with its deadly trap, his whole body trembling with anger. Marianne felt him shaking against her, vibrating like the vessel itself, and her instinctive liking for the boy increased. His indignation communicated itself to her own heart, just as Jean's nervous excitement was something she felt in every fibre of her own body. Curiously enough, at that moment, such is the bond of the common danger, the escaped prisoner from the hulks and the daughter of the Marquis d'Asselnat were as one.

Jean was speaking again, spitting out his words. 'They fasten a lantern to a cow's horns and lead it up and down the shore to make doomed ships believe they see another vessel. That is what happened to the big merchantman and his lights drew us. They are vultures, devils!'

In her unconscious need to soothe her brother in terror, Marianne tried to conceal her own fears because she sensed that Jean would need all his strength and quickness for what was to come and also because it was important to her that he should still be a solid rock to lean on. Staring at the vague outline of the coast, she asked: 'What coast is this, do you know?'

It was Black Fish who answered in a voice as calm as though the danger no longer concerned him.

'It is one of the most dangerous places on the coast of Brittany. They call it Paganie, "pagan land", and it is true that its inhabitants are fiercer than any pagan. It is a cruel, desolate spot, relying on the sea for everything. The people make sure it gives them what they need.' There was a sudden gentleness in his voice as he added: 'I think, lass, this time it is death.'

It was true, the little boat was caught up in a whirl of hissing spray. Around the three unfortunates as they clung to one another, the sea roared in the rocky cove but another, more terrible noise rose above the sound of the tempest. In the same instant, fires sprang up on the shore, throwing a tragic light over the sea. Screams and shouts rent the night, mingling with the crackle of burning wood. The huge bulk of the merchant ship seemed to rear up and fall back with a sound like thunder. A wave, higher than the rest, had cast her, belly-down on a jagged reef and what Marianne and her companions had heard was the sound of her hull splitting. Marianne could see small black figures clinging to the vessel's bridge and spars. She saw other figures armed with torches running back and forth on what must be a small beach. Then she saw no more because the sloop in her turn was rushing to her doom and terror overcame her. Marianne had been preserved until that movement by the tragic grandeur of the sight but now she fully realized her own mortal danger. She stared with eyes of horror at the black waters foaming so close, waters which in a few minutes more would close over her.