Marianne

***

'Ship ahead! We're saved!'

There was both triumph and relief in Black Fish's voice. He was echoed by Marianne and Jean. For hours they had been running blindly before the storm. The Seagull's case had been desperate. Not many cables' lengths from the dread Dover rocks, an underwater reef had damaged the rudder. They had tried to hoist the sails but these were carried away when the mast collapsed before a gust of exceptional force. Since then, the vessel had drifted, blind and helpless, at the mercy of the untrammelled waves. The worst moment for Marianne had been when she saw Black Fish leave the helm to come and sit with Jean and herself. She had grown used to seeing the enormous sailor as a kind of ocean god, as much a part of his vessel as of the sea itself. The boat was soundly built and yet the storm had battered it savagely, the man seemed indestructible and yet he too was beaten. In her wretchedness, she could not help saying: 'Is there no hope?'

Black Fish shrugged. 'What else can I do?' he said gruffly. 'Row? You can try it if you like but I've done all I can. Now, it's in the lap of the gods.'

He pulled his sodden and ridiculous hat down over his eyes irritably, as though he meant to sleep, but his eyes, beneath the dripping brim, were watchful. He was the first to spot the stern lights of a vessel which in their present situation was a blessing from heaven.

'We are saved,' Marianne repeated, her nerves too much on edge to feel much relief. 'Saved!'

But Jean was less optimistic.

'Wait and see what vessel she is first,' he growled. 'They may be pirates and refuse to take us aboard. We're not much in the way of a prize. Or they may be English and send me back to the hulks.'

But Marianne could not believe that the captain of any vessel could be so heartless as to send three luckless passengers aboard a fishing boat coolly to their deaths on such a black and dreadful night. Eyes smarting from the salt and so wet through that she could no longer even imagine what it was to be dry, she gazed with passionate intensity at the twin stars dancing in the murk, reminding her of the big ships she had seen in Plymouth Harbour, as stout and comforting as a warm inn at the end of a wintry frozen forest. How she longed to escape from this hell of wind and water, the cold and fear! In this moment of great peril, she was once again a terrified child, grasping at the least protection, the smallest help, the slightest hope, only so she might be less cold and frightened.

'The wind's driving us towards her,' Black Fish said. He was clinging to the halyards and peering into the darkness. Almost at once, he gave another, louder shout.

'We must be near a harbour. I can see another light to starboard.'

He broke off with a gasp while Marianne flung herself into Jean's arms with a shriek of terror. The darkness had lightened suddenly and in that instant the shape of a huge reef slipped by to starboard at an alarming rate, followed by another. The rudderless sloop was driving forward like the wind and the lights of the vessel ahead were drawing nearer at a dizzying rate. Soon, its shape could be seen, dark against the sky. Then all at once, a sliver of moonlight slipped between the clouds and lighted on the boiling waters, revealing the tragic outline of a big merchantman yawing drunkenly amid the battering of the hissing, foaming waters beneath her. Her tall sails hung like wet rags uselessly from masts like black and naked trees. At the same time, huge glistening rocks, carved in fantastic shapes, appeared for an instant and were gone, rocks whereon danced the second light which Black Fish had taken for the entry to a harbour. Jean Le Dru's shriek nearly burst Marianne's eardrum.

'Wreckers!'

He shook his fist wildly at the coast with its deadly trap, his whole body trembling with anger. Marianne felt him shaking against her, vibrating like the vessel itself, and her instinctive liking for the boy increased. His indignation communicated itself to her own heart, just as Jean's nervous excitement was something she felt in every fibre of her own body. Curiously enough, at that moment, such is the bond of the common danger, the escaped prisoner from the hulks and the daughter of the Marquis d'Asselnat were as one.

Jean was speaking again, spitting out his words. 'They fasten a lantern to a cow's horns and lead it up and down the shore to make doomed ships believe they see another vessel. That is what happened to the big merchantman and his lights drew us. They are vultures, devils!'

In her unconscious need to soothe her brother in terror, Marianne tried to conceal her own fears because she sensed that Jean would need all his strength and quickness for what was to come and also because it was important to her that he should still be a solid rock to lean on. Staring at the vague outline of the coast, she asked: 'What coast is this, do you know?'

It was Black Fish who answered in a voice as calm as though the danger no longer concerned him.

'It is one of the most dangerous places on the coast of Brittany. They call it Paganie, 'pagan land', and it is true that its inhabitants are fiercer than any pagan. It is a cruel, desolate spot, relying on the sea for everything. The people make sure it gives them what they need.' There was a sudden gentleness in his voice as he added: 'I think, lass, this time it is death.'

It was true, the little boat was caught up in a whirl of hissing spray. Around the three unfortunates as they clung to one another, the sea roared in the rocky cove but another, more terrible noise rose above the sound of the tempest. In the same instant, fires sprang up on the shore, throwing a tragic light over the sea. Screams and shouts rent the night, mingling with the crackle of burning wood. The huge bulk of the merchant ship seemed to rear up and fall back with a sound like thunder. A wave, higher than the rest, had cast her, belly-down on a jagged reef and what Marianne and her companions had heard was the sound of her hull splitting. Marianne could see small black figures clinging to the vessel's bridge and spars. She saw other figures armed with torches running back and forth on what must be a small beach. Then she saw no more because the sloop in her turn was rushing to her doom and terror overcame her. Marianne had been preserved until that movement by the tragic grandeur of the sight but now she fully realized her own mortal danger. She stared with eyes of horror at the black waters foaming so close, waters which in a few minutes more would close over her.

Still clinging to Jean, she crossed herself earnestly, muttered a prayer and had a brief thought for her Aunt Ellis whom she now went to join and even for Francis and Ivy. Were human quarrels carried over into the next world? It hardly seemed to matter. What mattered was that she should be forgiven for the twofold crime she had unwittingly committed. Next, she made up her mind to close her eyes to shut out the terrible scene of the shipwreck, and that she would never open them again. But first, she glanced up at the young man whose arms were round her. He was standing like a statue, head held high and his face might have been carved out of marble as he stared at the doomed vessel. Marianne felt his body trembling against hers. But then he became aware of her movement and looked at her like one awakening from a dream. It was only an instant. Then he was gripping her shoulders.

'And of course, you haven't the faintest idea how to swim? You've never learned! They don't teach girls that kind of thing where you come from—' There was a kind of desperate violence in his voice.

'But – yes, I learned to swim. In a river, certainly, not in this—' She jerked her head towards the raging sea and shuddered.

'If that is true, you may yet escape,' said Black Fish's loud voice beside her. But Marianne was beginning to understand all that was meant by that word, swim, and felt as much terror as though she had never learned. She clung to Jean with all her strength.

'I can swim – but I'm frightened! I'm so frightened! Don't leave me, I beg of you, don't let me go – without you, I am bound to die.'

A softness came into the boy's tense face. Faced with the terror of this child, he forgot his own fear and thought only of protecting her. There was such beauty in the supplicating eyes, such loveliness in the face raised to his that all at once, he felt in himself the strength of twenty knights. Impulsively, he clasped her to him.

'No, I will not let you go! I will hold you tight. I'll hold you so close that the sea shall not get you—'

'No rash promises!' Black Fish growled. 'Once in the water, its every man for himself but the devil's in it if between us we can't get her out of this – always supposing we can get ourselves out of it.'

But Jean was not listening. Impelled by the unconscious desire which had sprung up in him at the moment when he first looked on Marianne, he had set his lips on hers and for a brief moment, Marianne forgot her fears in the sweet tenderness of that kiss. In the same instant, the sloop lifted as though about to take wing, keeled over to one side and fell back with a dreadful tearing sound. Marianne and Jean were flung into the sea with such violence that their arms were torn apart and to her horror, Marianne found herself alone amid the white topped