"The worms are resting. . . . Cugel! Where are you going?"

Cugel had already run out upon the midship-deck, to find the sail back-winded and furiously flogging at the sheets. He climbed to the quarter-deck, where he discovered that Madame Soldinck, becoming discouraged, had abandoned her post and gone to her quarters.

Cugel checked the escalabra. The claw indicated a northerly direction, with the ship ducking and yawing and sidling astern. Cugel spun the wheel; the bow fell off; the wind caught the sail with a great clap of sound, so that Cugel feared for the sheets. Irritated by the jerking, the worms swung up from the water, plunged, broke their cinctures and swam away.

Cugel called out: "All hands on deck!" but no-one responded. He lashed the wheel and working in the dark brailed up the sail, suffering several sharp blows from the flailing sheets.

The ship now blew directly down-wind, in an easterly direction. Cugel went in search of his crew, to discover that all had locked themselves in their cabins, from which they silently ignored his orders.

Cugel kicked furiously at the doors, but only bruised his foot. He limped back amidships and made all as secure as possible.

The wind howled through the rigging and the ship began to show an inclination to broach. Cugel once more ran forward and roared orders to his crew. He elicited a response only from Madame Soldinck: "Go away, and leave us to die in peace! We are all sick."

Cugel gave a final kick to the door and, limping, made his way to the wheel, where with great exertion he managed to keep the ship tracking steady before the wind.

All night Cugel stood at the wheel while the wind keened and shrieked and the waves reared ever higher, sometimes to break against the transom in surging white foam. On one such occasion Cugel looked over his shoulder, to discover a glare of reflected light.

Light? From where?

The source must be the windows of the aft cabin. Cugel had set no lamps aglow — which implied that someone else had done so, in defiance of his explicit orders.

Cugel dared not leave the wheel to extinguish the light. . . . Small matter, Cugel told himself; tonight he could shine a beacon across the ocean and there would be none to see.

Hours went by and the ship rushed eastward before the gale, with Cugel a barely animate hulk at the wheel. After an interminable period the night came to an end and a dull purple blush entered the sky. At last the sun rose to reveal an ocean of rolling black waves tumbled with white froth.

The wind abated. Cugel found that once again the ship would hold its own course. Painfully he straightened his body, stretched his arms, and worked his numb fingers. He descended to the aft-cabin, and discovered that someone had arranged two lamps in the stern window.

Cugel extinguished the lights and changed from the gown of pale blue silk to his own clothes. He pulled the three-tiered hat clasped with 'Spatterlight' upon his head, adjusted the tilt to best effect and marched forward. He found Madame Soldinck and her daughters in the galley, sitting at the table over a breakfast of tea and sweet-cakes. None displayed the ravages of seasickness; indeed all seemed well-rested and serene.