When this north-east wind began to blow, the yacht Seabird lay well away to the southward and eastward of Silver Bay, the reckoning being that she was from the bay a hundred-and-thirty miles as a crow flies. The gale had not come on the schooner suddenly. The Duke, the Marquis, and the captain were standing together when the south-west wind on which they had been sailing, began to die, and finally shook out of the sails.

It was a beautiful moonless starlight night. When the wind fell, and the sails flapped idly against the masts, the Duke turned to Captain Drew and said:

"Well, captain, what do you think of it now?"

"I don't think much of it, your grace; I think we're going to have a stiff'ner. I don't like the look of it at all."

"Where do you expect it from now?"

"Not out of the south'ard and west'ard again. No such luck. It would not surprise me a bit if it went all the way round to north, or even the east'ard of north. The glass is falling, it's been un-naturally hot for days, and I think we'll have a change."

"So do I. I think the thermometer must have fallen also. Has it, captain?"

"Yes, your grace, it has dropped from sixty-seven to sixty, and it is going down still."

"I'm sure it isn't sixty now. I think you're right, Drew. I think it will be out of the north. I feel it in my shoulder. I feel the north-east is coming. What do you think, George?"

"I think so too. I am almost sure we shall have to put about before morning. It is growing colder and colder every moment."

For awhile there was silence on deck.

A tall raw-boned man with hollow cadaverous cheeks was at the wheel. He was a man of forty-five years of age, and one of the best seamen in the crew. It was the captain's watch, and the next man who spoke aloud was the man at the wheel. He cried out, in as low a voice as would reach the second mate:

"Mr. Mate!"

"Ay, ay!" answered the mate from the waist, as he turned and walked aft to Pritchard, the gaunt cadaverous man at the wheel.

There was a loud flapping of sails at this time. For awhile Pritchard and Starclay, the second mate, whispered. Starclay took the wheel for a moment, put it three spokes to starboard, put it three spokes to port, and then asked of Pritchard:

"When did you notice it?"

"Not until after the way went off her. I was playing with the wheel, and I felt something wrong."

"Ay, something wrong, no doubt. I don't know what. We must see to it at once. I think we're going to have a bit of a twister. Awkward to have anything wrong there if we get into heavy weather. The captain is talking to the Duke, and I don't like going to him just now. Mr. Yarmould is lying down. I'll ask him to turn up."

Yarmould was the first mate.

In a few minutes Yarmould, the first mate, came aft with the second mate, and taking the wheel in his hand, turned it three spokes to starboard, and then three spokes to port of "steady," shook his head, and then asked:

"How much was it free before from steady, Pritchard?"

"One spoke, sir, or maybe two. Did you notice, sir, that when you put it over three spokes and were putting it back six, between the second and third spoke you felt something?"

"Yes. It didn't come back smooth. I felt a check at about steady. That's queer, isn't it, Mr. Starclay?"

Mr. Yarmould was stout and low of stature.

"Yes, sir. I can't make it out. It goes over freely three spokes, and yet when it's coming back, it grates between two and three."

The chief mate spun the wheel backward and forward once more, and then looked up quickly. It was impossible to see the expression of his face; but evidently he had made up his mind as to what was wrong with the steering apparatus of the yacht Seabird.

He said:

"The carpenter is in your watch, Mr. Starclay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ask him to step aft."

When the carpenter had come, the first mate said:

"Mr. Carpenter, yesterday two spokes or three spokes of the wheel picked up the slack of the rudder-chain when the wheel was hard over in smooth water, now it takes six spokes to pick up the slack. Try the wheel and tell us what you think of it."

The carpenter caught the spokes and put them over, and put them back again.

"At halfway back I feel something," said the carpenter. "That is bad. It's not the chains, it's not the wheel, it's not the tackles----"

He paused awhile, and all the men looked gravely into one another's face, but no one spoke.

The boom, with the great mainsail, lay over at the starboard side of the schooner. The Duke, the Marquis, and the captain were standing by the starboard main shrouds. The two noblemen were leaning up against the bulwark, and the captain was standing five or six planks to windward, amid-ship from the bulwark, and in a line with a line drawn from a point about halfway between the mainmast and the companion. Thus he could not see anything of what was going on at the wheel, and the flapping of the sails prevented his hearing the words spoken further aft beyond the cry of "Mr. Mate!" to which he had attached no importance.

The lower portion of the bodies of the four men now at the wheel had been all along visible to the Marquis of Southwold. Such a gathering of the crew on the quarter-deck was, under the circumstances, exceedingly unusual, and it attracted the heir's attention. At last he spoke:

"I say, Captain Drew, what can all these men want aft in a calm at this time of night?"

The captain turned quickly round, stooped so as to be able to see under the boom, recognised by the bulk and stature of the four men who they were, and guessing something was wrong from the fact that the first mate, whose watch it was below, was on deck and in consultation with Pritchard at the wheel, the second mate, and the carpenter, said: "I'll go see, my lord," and dived under the boom and disappeared, all but the lower part of his body.

"What is it, Mr. Mate?" asked the captain.

"Well, sir, it looks bad enough."

"The weather? I know it does. We're going to have it, and I think, Mr. Mate, a good deal too, of it, out of the north. But we are able for all we can get. Eh?" The final interrogative was spoken, evidently not with a view to an answer to the question it put, but with the intention of encouraging the mate to speak out and explain why a council should be held on the quarter-deck without him, at such an hour, and in a calm.

There was a perceptible pause.

"We think," said Yarmould, in a whisper, "that there's going to be a gale----"

"Well," cried the captain impatiently, "we're not feathers or chaff that we need be afraid of our being blown away, my sons." He spoke with the impatient irritation of a man who knew he was being fenced with, and knew the men who were fencing with him would not be so unstraight, only that they wished to break to him some unpleasant fact.

"What is it?" the captain asked, seeing them all hesitate.

"We think, sir, there is something wrong with the steering-gear."

"With the steering-gear! With what part of the steering-gear? The chain?"

"No."

"The tackles?"

"No."

"The wheel?"

"No."

"The helm?"

"No, sir."

"Then, in the devil's name, what is it?"

"We think the cap-irons of the rudder have worked loose."

"What!"

For a few seconds no one spoke.

"Are you sure?" asked the captain.

"Take the wheel, sir, and see what you think of it."

The captain spun the wheel first one way and then another. He thrust his cap back off his forehead, thrust his hands into his trousers-pockets, and remained motionless for a few moments.

Over the rudder-head was an ornamental seat.

"Carpenter," said the captain, "bring your tools and a lantern. Knock away this seat, and let us see how things are."

As the captain gave these orders the sails ceased to flap. Slowly the boom went over to what had a little while before been the weather-side; the sails filled, and the schooner began to forge slowly ahead.

"Drew!" cried the Duke.

"Yes, your grace."

"Put her about and run for the bay. Good-night."

"Ay, ay, your grace. Good-night."

"Anything wrong. Drew?" called out the Marquis.

"I hope not, your lordship. We are going to try; and when we know I will run below and tell you."

"All right. Good-night, Drew; good-night, men."

"Good-night, your lordship."

The carpenter brought the tools and a lantern. In a few minutes he had knocked away the ornamental seat, and revealed the rudder-cap.

There, unmistakeably, was the explanation of the irregularity which Pritchard had noticed. The rudder-head was rotten; and the cap-irons of the rudder had worked loose upon the wood, so that the helm, to which the cap-irons were fixed, played a little free to starboard and port before it gripped the rudder-head.

"What do you think, carpenter?" asked the captain, when the four men had recovered their upright position, after bending low to examine the rudder-head by the light of the lantern.

The carpenter shook his head gravely.

"It doesn't look wholesome, does it, captain? You're going to put the ship about, sir?"

"Yes."

"All right, sir. Put her about, and then we'll see what we can do."

The sails were now full with the north-east breeze, which was yet light. The yacht was put about. Her head was set for Silver Bay, and she lay over slightly, steered half a point to the northward of north-west, on the wind with the wind abeam.

When the yacht was tidy once more, the four men came aft to where the man stood at the wheel.

"What do you propose to do, carpenter?" asked the master.

"Well, sir, you see there's no time to be lost. It was a bad bit of timber to start with, and now it's dozed. It's the first rudder she ever had?"

"It is the first rudder she ever had."

"And it's five years since she has been on the hard or in a dry dock?"

"Five years since she got a good overhauling."

"It is my opinion, sir, that anyone would pass that rudder by sight until it began to give, which can't be longer ago than a few days."

"What do you propose doing?"

"Well, sir, I'd say the best thing would be to wedge it taut inside the cap-iron. What do you think, sir?"

"You couldn't fish it?"

"No, sir, in no way; there's no room."

"I think you're right, Mr. Carpenter. There is no other way but to wedge it. Do you think it will hold?"

"Yes, sir, I think it will. We'll lash it in with half-inch as far as we can below the iron, and then we'll wedge it inside the iron. That'll hold it," said the carpenter confidently.

"Ay," said the captain; "I don't think you can do anything better."

The carpenter set to work at once. The man at the helm kept the wheel steady, and coil after coil was slowly wound round the rotten rudder-head. The carpenter wound the rope round and round as far down as the space between the rudder-head and the rudder-case would allow. Then he improved on his original plan, and wound the line over the coil already formed, thus doubling the thickness of the serving. When this had been done, the carpenter brought some pieces of oak, and cut them into long wedges. These he drove down with a caulker's maul inside the cap-iron all round the rudder-head.

While the carpenter was lashing the rudder-head and driving in the wedges, the captain and first mate were walking up and down the quarter-deck together. As the carpenter had driven in wedge after wedge, he had noticed with satisfaction that each succeeding one required more driving. Hence it was obvious the wedges were telling. It was also plainly revealed, by the light of the lantern, that the play of the rudder-head within the irons of the rudder-cap had been reduced to almost nothing. This was exceedingly satisfactory. Now and then the captain had stopped in his walk to see how the carpenter progressed.

When the carpenter had driven in ten wedges he paused a moment, asked the captain to look, and said:

"What do you think of it now, captain?"

"What do you say, Mr. Carpenter?"

"Well, sir, I think 'twill hold now. See." He caught the rudder and shook it forcibly.

"It works a little yet."

"It does, sir. Do you think, sir, I might put in another wedge or two?"

"You see, Mr. Carpenter, it works a little free now; we're going to have a gale; if it works a little now, it will work a great deal more by-and-by, and I don't like the notion of that iron working freer and freer with a lee-shore under my bow. I don't like that notion at all. Do you think you could make it taut with a couple more wedges?"

"Yes, captain; I think I could, if----"

"If what?"

"If the iron will hold."

"Ah!" said the captain, and the three men looked down gravely at the face of the carpenter, who was kneeling on the deck, and whose tar-stained caulker's maul was partly illumined by the light of the lantern. The lantern was tilted up by a spike-nail so that most of the light was thrown on the rudder-cap and down the rudder-case.

"And what do you think of the iron, Mr. Carpenter?"

The man did not reply immediately. He took up a hammer and struck the iron sharply with it. The paint cracked and fell down the rudder-case into the black invisible water below. When most of the yellow paint had fallen off, the rusty wasted metal became visible.

"It looks all right, captain," said the carpenter, raising his head.

"Well, knock in two more wedges. I don't like the notion of that thing working loose while we are in a gale with a lee-shore under our bow. I promised the Duke I'd tell him about this as soon as it had been put straight. I suppose I may count it straight now, Mr. Carpenter?"

"Yes, sir; I think you may. With the lashing and the wedges I don't expect anything will stir, and I have no fear of the iron."

The captain walked forward and disappeared down the companion.