them, and their vessel keel upward in the boiling surf, ere they can cry out one single prayer to the Mother of mariners.
Sometimes, she knew, out of a score of feluccas that went out at sunrise blithe and busy as a swarm of swallows, five or six only would come home to the mole next morning. The hungry libeccio would have swallowed up the rest.
The storm was not yet down, but made itself felt in the chill of the air, in the force of the gusts, which fell like blows, in the swirl and surge of the waves, in sunshine so blue, now yellowish-white and leaden-grey. The little boat still flew, elastic and easy, before the wind, rocking and reeling often, but always righting herself, even though drenched again and again with water. Musa was wet through; the shrill wind whistled amongst her curls and blew them upright; it was all she could do to keep her place, and cling to the tiller to keep the boat's head due north.
The hours she had lost, going about to hide her destination from Andreino, had brought her into the very press and peril of the wild weather that had come upon sea and land. But for that she would have been
