'Twill tax your strength more to keep her head thus than to run, as you did last night, clean before the wind; but you are strong and brave, and teach us to be the same." The subtlest courtier's speech could not have won her as did these blunt words.

She said no more than "I go, my Captain." But the look of her eyes as they met his spoke volumes of joy and gratitude, a tithe of which would have gladdened me for a lifetime.
Then we fell to shortening our canvas--a perilous task.

When that was done, leaving only the topsails spread, Ludar bade us make good the hatches, and fall to and eat.

Which we did, all but the poet, who, being either big with his ode, or misliking the wildness of the night, sat idle.
"Come, Sir Popinjay," said Ludar.

"Eat, for no man can work on an empty stomach, and even poetry will not help haul a rope." "We avoid Scylla, my Captain, only to fall into Charybdis.