Suddenly Nina Forbes began to recite the Lord's Prayer. One by one the others joined in. The concluding petition had a peculiar appropriateness. If ever four Christian people might appeal to be delivered from evil, surely these four were in great need of heavenly succor.
"That's fine!" said Sturgess, almost cheerfully, when a hearty "Amen" had relieved their surcharged feelings. "Me for the pine pew and the right sort of preacher when next I stroll out of West Fifty-seventh Street into Broadway of a Sabbath morning. Anyhow, to-day being Sunday, and the hour rather early, which way do we head for the nearest church when the tide falls, commodore?"
Maseden had already weighed that very question, but the utter collapse of the voyage on which he had founded such high hopes had chastened his pride.
"I think we had better put it to the vote," he said. "I've led you into such a death-trap already that I don't feel equal to a decision."
He had been watching a big rock on the opposite shore. A little while ago it was awash; now it was submerged, yet the water was appreciably lower where they were standing.
The seeming contradiction was puzzling. He had yet to learn that the laws governing water in motion are extraordinarily complex--take to witness the varying levels of the whirlpool in the Niagara River and the almost phenomenal height of the central stream in the Niagara rapids.
"Guess we're satisfied with your control so far," said Sturgess. "What are you making a kick about? You prophesied just what would occur, and that's more than the average wizard can do."
"Didn't you tell us we might strike a score of reefs between Providence Beach and Smyth's Channel, and that we should be lucky if we didn't have to build 'steen rafts?"
Maseden smiled. The rock he had marked as an index was reappearing, and the water had sunk another inch below his knees. The tide had unquestionably turned; the water banked up on the opposite shore was also yielding to the new force.
"I never anticipated another complete shipwreck," he said. "We have lost everything, ropes, skins, food--our chief supporter, the broken foremast--even our flag."
"But we still have the rifle and cartridges, and we're plus a fortnight's experience. If we don't start life again better fixed than when we climbed to the ledge in the dark from the forecastle of the _Southern Cross_, call me a Dutchman."