Day came and the storm continued, but with night the wind fell and quiet possessed the deep. The sea subsided, and just before dawn the clouds broke, showing a waning moon. She lay rolling heavily in the heavy sea, her a flourish and a spoil gone, her boats swept away, her poop low in the water, her beak-head high, a flourish and a spoil by the stern. He stood erect upon her bowsprit, a dark figure outlined against the livid sky. Robin-a-dale swung himself to and fro in an ecstasy of terror. And he stands so quiet while he rides. Arden, drumming with his fingers upon the rail, looked sidewise at Sir Mortimer Ferne.