Now Bertric set us to work, and we had little or no trouble, for the breeze fell altogether very quickly.  The sheet had fouled the great cleat which was bolted to the deck beams amidships aft for the backstay, and that was easily cleared.  Then we swung the yard fore and aft, Dalfin hauling as he was bidden, with fixed intent to haul till further orders, which was all we needed from him.  Then Bertric would have two reefs taken in, for we could not tell what weather we might meet, or for how long we might have to stay on board without help.  The foot of the sail was wet, as with heavy rain.

“We can take no chances,” he said.  “Yet it is likely that we shall have a ship or two in chase of us shortly.  It is a wonder to me that we have seen none yet.  But word will go along the coast of what has happened.  It is not the first time that a carelessly-moored vessel has got adrift in a calm, and found a breeze for herself, while her sail was hoisted to dry in the sun.”

Now, all we had to do was to carry forward the tack and set it up for reaching, and to do that we had to climb over the fagots at the foot of the penthouse, and the gunwale end of the timbers they rested on, the run of the deck being blocked altogether by the pile.  Seeing that when the ship was to be put about the square sail had to be lowered, brought aft round the mast and rehoisted on the other board, the unhandiness of the thing was terribly unseamanlike.  Bertric and I grumbled and wondered at it the while we worked, only hoping that by some stroke of luck we might be able to reach a haven without having to shift the sail.  It was to the starboard of the mast now, which would serve us well if the wind came from east or north, as was most likely.

Maybe that was an hour’s work, and we had done all we might.  By that time the breeze had altogether gone, and the ship floated idly on still, bright water, with the hush of the night round us.  There was time to tow her head round when we knew whence the morning wind would blow.

Bertric coiled down the fall of the tack purchase, and nodded to Dalfin.  “Food now, if there is to be any,” he said.  “What is in yon kettle?”

Now that we were forward we had seen that against this end of the penthouse no fagots had been piled.  The red and white striped awnings of the decks were set there, carefully rolled up round their carved supports, and they rested on a stout sea bedstead, such as might be carried on board for the chief to whom the ship belonged.  Two more chests stood at the head and foot of this bedstead, and they were carved, as indeed was the bed.  It was plain that all the gear on board belonged to some great house.