Looking forward, he fully expected to see the yawl making for the horizon, but saw that she wasn’t but fifteen, twenty yards ahead. Yards that Double Eagle made up swiftly, the big fisherman’s staysail powering her on as Nat laid the schooner off fifteen degrees to get up enough steam to help drive her through the yawl’s wind shadow. She was abeam Black Watch for the second time, slowing as she passed through the yawl’s lee, but still driving, all grit and perseverance now, and if the rival crew had been laughing at the carnival of mishaps, they weren’t laughing now. The schooner’s bowsprit stabbed past the yawl.

“We’ve got ’em! We’ve got ’em now!” Every fiber in Nat’s body was taut as the rigging, his face glowed with an exultation that was, well, damn near religious. Then, with a quick look at his opponent, he let out a yell.

“It’s Will! It’s Will at their helm!”

Eliot looked. Yes, it was Will, and looking oh so nautical in white yachtsman’s cap and dark turtleneck sweater.

“Say, Will! Will Terhune!” Nat hailed, daring to let go the helm with one hand while he cupped the other alongside his mouth. “Got you now! Say, Will!”

Double Eagle’s stern soon swept past Black Watch’s bow, and with a clear wind, she sprang away. Eliot dashed forward and doused the staysail; if it stayed up, it could blow out.

“Now watch this,” he said to Drew, realizing from the breathlessness in his voice that he had become caught up in the contest, that the lust for triumph was in him, too, just a little more hidden. “Look at the yawl’s sails … luffing.… She’s losing way.… Will’s trying to point her up, but he can’t, on account of our sails are deflecting the wind into the backs of hers. We’re backwinding her.… We’re in the safe leeward position, because when you’re there, it’s darn near impossible for the boat behind you to pass you.… See?”

“Bye … bye, bye, Will.…” Nat, looking astern, waved prissily.

“Only one thing he can do,” Eliot said, resuming his commentary. “Wait till we’re far enough ahead not to backwind him anymore and then bear off … And there he goes.…”

Will’s crew gave chase, but on this point of sail, Double Eagle was the faster vessel, and if the wind did not swing forward and no dumb mistakes were made, the race was over.

With the tension released, Nat broke into a grin, which exploded into a hoarse laugh. And what was so funny? asked Eliot.

“You … falling on your arse twice … And then, when you got up, the way you shook your fist …” Nat choked, wiped his eyes. “When you yelled, ‘I am the risen Christ!’ Oh, I hope Will heard that. That was so rich. I am the risen Christ!”