Chapter IV

One day Gerald stole out on the deck. The sun was broiling hot. His mother was with him.

"Mama," he said, "let's go roun' de uddah side."

"Wha' fuh, sonny?"

"Ah wan' fuh go out dere at the Portugee shop an' buy a ball o' cookoo an' a piece o' salt fish. My mout' ain't got a bit o' taste."

"Yo' can't do that, son, there ain't any shops in the sea," she said, smiling weakly at him. "Come, let's go back--I don't feel so good."

Then it suddenly happened. They were below, it was dark, quiet, noiseless. Even the engines had stopped. Boom! it came. It sounded like the roar of a cannon. It shook the ship. Glass jingled. Things fell. Gerald's energetic mind flew hurriedly back to Black Rock. Often there would be sun and rain--all at once. The gap folk had become so used to it that they said it was the "devil and his wife fighting."

Until now lazy and half-asleep, the deckers rose, scrambling up on the above deck. Their baggage was going with them.

Gerald turned to his mother, busy combing her hair. She said, "Come, Gerald, put on yo' Sunday hat, son, yo' at Colon."

But he was skeptical. He stole upstairs and was an eager witness to the ship's surrender. The _Wellington_, a princess of the sea, had given in to the greater force of the earth. Soberly and serenely she had done so.