This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
152
Left to Themselves.

cold, though the stormy chilliness made the early air sharp. In silence, except for a word from Touchtone or a sigh from Gerald, who lay in the bottom of the boat with his eyes closed, they moved onward whither waves and current might shape their sluggard's course.

Suddenly, about noon, Gerald sat up and declared he felt better. He seemed to have awakened from a stupor of weariness and sickness that had been on him.

"Let me take the tiller," he pleaded. "Indeed I can, just as well as you. You must be used up."

"Used up steering nowhere, and with hardly any sea running?" returned Philip, continuing to smile, not a little relieved to see color returned into his protégé's face, and with something like the usual tone to his voice. "Not a bit! I'm glad if you're able to move about again, though I must say you've not much occasion to do that at present. Sit down there. See how the waves have gone down. O, we're going to get along bravely presently. You'll see!"

"But which way are we going?"

"Well, that I can't positively inform you,"