He had not the smallest notion as to how far out to sea the boat had drifted.

Only he fancied that they had been driven out of the immediate track of steamers, and in the great emptiness around him he saw no means of escape from the fate that seemed to dog them.
The boat had lived miraculously, it seemed to him, through the awful storm of the day.

Tossed ruthlessly and aimlessly to and fro, drenched to the skin, hungry and forlorn, he and the woman who was to him the very desire of life, had gone through the peril of deep waters.

Merefleet was beginning to wonder why they had thus escaped.

It seemed to him but a needless prolonging of an agony already long drawn out.
Nevertheless there was nothing of despair in his face as he stooped over the girl who was crouching at his feet.
"Glad you have been able to sleep," he said gently.