"god keep you from the she-wolf, and from your heart's deep desire!"

my mother's words seemed to sound in my ears loudly, coming with the rush of wind that eddied around me out of the sail's belly. they gave me a queer start, as the thought came with[159] them that here at last my heart's deep desire would be mine presently—if only i could snatch it and keep it from the she-wolf of the sea.

magali was silent—half standing, half sitting, against the weather side of the boat, close in front of me as i stood at the tiller with the sheet in my hand. she had got over her fright. i could tell that by the brightness of her eyes, and by the warm colour in her cheeks that i had a glimpse of as we flashed past the break in the hills where the mas labillon stands. and in that moment while the dusk was thinned a little i could see, too, that she was breathing hard. i know what our women are, and i know what she was feeling. our women like to be fought for, and any one of them gladly would have been in magali's place—with the two strongest and handsomest men in les martigues in a fair way to come to a death-grip for her in the whirl of a rising storm.

back in the dusk, against the faint glow of the death-fires, i could see the sail of jan's boat dipping and swaying with the thrusts of the wind-gusts as it came on after me. it had gained a little; and i knew that it would gain more, for jan's boat was a speedier boat than mine on the wind. close-hauled, i could walk[160] away from him; but in running down the étang de caronte i had no choice in my sailing. out on the gulf of fos, if i dared take that chance, and if he dared follow me, i could bear up to windward and so shake him off—making for the anse d'auguette and taking shelter there. but even my hot blood chilled a little at the thought of going out that night on the gulf of fos. when we were down near the end of the étang—close to the salines, where it is widest—the wind that pelted down on us from the hills was terribly strong. it was hard to stand against even there, where the water was smooth. outside, it would be still stronger, and the water would be all in a boil. and at the end, to get into the anse d'auguette, we should have to take the risk of a roaring sea abeam.

but any risk was better than the risk of what might happen if jan overhauled me. now that i fairly had magali away from him, i did not want to fight him. what might come in a fight in rough water—where the winds and the waves would have to be reckoned with, and with the most careful reckoning might play tricks on me—was too uncertain; while if i could stand him off and get away from him,[161] so that even for one night i could keep magali with me, the game would be won. after that, if he wanted it, i would fight him as much as he pleased.

the thought that i would win—in spite of jan and in spite of the storm, too—made all my blood tingle. more by habit than anything else i sailed the boat: for my eyes were fixed on magali's eyes, shining there close to me, and my heart was full of her. we did not speak, but once she turned and looked at me—bending forward a little, so that her face was within a foot of mine. what she saw in my eyes was so easy to read that she gave all at once a half-laugh and a half-sob—and then turned away and peered through the blustering darkness toward jan's sail. somehow, the way she did that made me feel that she was holding the balance between us; that she was waiting—as the she among wild beasts waits while the males are fighting for her—for the stronger of us to win. after that i was ready to face the gulf of fos.

the time for facing the gulf was close on me, too. we had run through the canal of the salines and were out in the open water of bouc—the great harbour at the mouth[162] of the étang. the gale roared down on us, now that there was little land to break it, and we began to hear the boom of the waves pounding on the rocks outside. i luffed well into the wind and bore up for the narrows opening seaward where the fort de bouc light-house stands. the water still was not rough enough to trouble us. it would not be rough until we were at the very mouth of the narrows. then, all at once, would come the crush and fury of the wind and sea. i knew what it would be like: and again a chill shot through me at the thought of risking everything on that one great chance. but i had one thing to comfort me: the moon had risen—and while the light came brokenly, as the clouds thinned and thickened again, there was brightness enough even at the darkest for me to lay a course when i got out among the tumbling waves. yet only a man half mad with passion would have thought of fronting such a danger; and even i might have held back at the last moment had i not been stung to go on.

jan had so gained on me in the run down the étang that as we came out from the canal of the salines his boat was within less than a dozen rods of mine; and as i hauled my sheet and bore up for the narrows he shot down upon us[163] and for a moment was almost under our stern. and at that magali gave a little jump and a half-gasp, and laid her hand upon mine, crying: "marius! quick! sail faster! he will take me from you! get me away! get me away!"

and then i knew that she no longer balanced us, but that her heart was for me. after that i would have faced not only the gulf of fos but the open mediterranean in the worst storm that ever blew.