Chapter 58

“Oh, Lord,” thought the boy, still assailed by sudden quivers of skin and muscle, “—death was very near this time . . . and I don’t want any of it in mine. . . . I think I know more about it now. . . . I don’t want it, O Lord!” Against a spectral sky, the high pines of Tiger Island flew past as the sailboat scudded east, her starboard rail buried in foam. Louder, heavier grew the thunderous bombardment on False Cape; whiter, higher writhed the tortured flood rushing southward through obscurity. Whether he could cro…