At five in the morning Maud brought me hot coffee and biscuits she had baked, and at seven a substantial and piping hot breakfast put new lift into me.
Throughout the day, and as slowly and steadily as ever, the wind increased.

It impressed one with its sullen determination to blow, and blow harder, and keep on blowing.

And still the _Ghost_ foamed along, racing off the miles till I was certain she was making at least eleven knots.

It was too good to lose, but by nightfall I was exhausted.
Though in splendid physical trim, a thirty-six-hour trick at the wheel was the limit of my endurance.

Besides, Maud begged me to heave to, and I knew, if the wind and sea increased at the same rate during the night, that it would soon be impossible to heave to.