He felt the woman's
nearness with such intensity that he heard nothing. . . . Then suddenly
he thought of death.
"Wake up!" he shouted in her ear, swinging round in his seat. Mrs.
Travers gasped; a splash of water flicked her over the eyes and she felt
the separate drops run down her cheeks, she tasted them on her lips,
tepid and bitter like tears. A swishing undulation tossed the boat on
high followed by another and still another; and then the boat with the
breeze abeam glided through still water, laying over at a steady angle.
"Clear of the reef now," remarked Lingard in a tone of relief.
"Were we in any danger?" asked Mrs. Travers in a whisper.
"Well, the breeze dropped and we drifted in very close to the rocks," he
answered. "I had to rouse you. It wouldn't have done for you to wake up
suddenly struggling in the water."
So she had slept! It seemed to her incredible that she should have
closed her eyes in this small boat, with the knowledge of their
desperate errand, on so disturbed a sea. The man by her side leaned
forward, extended his arm, and the boat going off before the wind went
on faster on an even keel. A motionless black bank resting on the sea
stretched infinitely right in their way in ominous stillness. She called
Lingard's attention to it. "Look at this awful cloud.
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