He was standing, ankle deep, in water, leaning backward to windward, in order to give the boat every pound of weight he could.

The lambent summer-lightning on the western horizon illuminated his face fitfully.

In that moment Juliette saw what is given to few to see and realise--though sailors, perforce, lie down to sleep knowing it every night--that under Heaven her life was wholly and solely in the two hands of a fellow-being.

She knew it, and saw that Barebone knew it, though he never glanced at her.

She saw the whites of his eyes gleaming as he looked up, from moment to moment, to the head of the sail and stooped again to peer under the foot of it into the darkness ahead.