He looked at the clouds piling behind us, thicker and thicker, higher and higher, at the bending mast, at the black water swirling now and again over the gunwales. “It’s enough,” he muttered.

I beckoned to Diccon, and putting the tiller into his hands went forward to reef the sail. When it was done and I was back in my place, my lord spoke again.

“Where are we going, captain?”

“I don’t know.”

“If you leave that sail up much longer, you will land us at the bottom of the river.”

“There are worse places,” I replied.

He left his seat, and moved, though with caution, to one nearer Mistress Percy.