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We
both
laughed
,
and
then
went
seriously
to
work
constructing
the
plan
whereby
we
were
to
step
the
masts
of
the
Ghost
and
return
to
the
world
.
I
remembered
hazily
the
physics
of
my
school
days
,
while
the
last
few
months
had
given
me
practical
experience
with
mechanical
purchases
.
I
must
say
,
though
,
when
we
walked
down
to
the
Ghost
to
inspect
more
closely
the
task
before
us
,
that
the
sight
of
the
great
masts
lying
in
the
water
almost
disheartened
me
.
Where
were
we
to
begin
?
If
there
had
been
one
mast
standing
,
something
high
up
to
which
to
fasten
blocks
and
tackles
!
But
there
was
nothing
.
It
reminded
me
of
the
problem
of
lifting
oneself
by
one
's
boot-straps
.
I
understood
the
mechanics
of
levers
;
but
where
was
I
to
get
a
fulcrum
?
There
was
the
mainmast
,
fifteen
inches
in
diameter
at
what
was
now
the
butt
,
still
sixty-five
feet
in
length
,
and
weighing
,
I
roughly
calculated
,
at
least
three
thousand
pounds
.
And
then
came
the
foremast
,
larger
in
diameter
,
and
weighing
surely
thirty-five
hundred
pounds
.
Where
was
I
to
begin
?
Maud
stood
silently
by
my
side
,
while
I
evolved
in
my
mind
the
contrivance
known
among
sailors
as
"
shears
.
"
But
,
though
known
to
sailors
,
I
invented
it
there
on
Endeavour
Island
.
By
crossing
and
lashing
the
ends
of
two
spars
,
and
then
elevating
them
in
the
air
like
an
inverted
"
V
,
"
I
could
get
a
point
above
the
deck
to
which
to
make
fast
my
hoisting
tackle
.
To
this
hoisting
tackle
I
could
,
if
necessary
,
attach
a
second
hoisting
tackle
.
And
then
there
was
the
windlass
!
Maud
saw
that
I
had
achieved
a
solution
,
and
her
eyes
warmed
sympathetically
.
"
What
are
you
going
to
do
?
"
she
asked
.
"
Clear
that
raffle
,
"
I
answered
,
pointing
to
the
tangled
wreckage
overside
.
Ah
,
the
decisiveness
,
the
very
sound
of
the
words
,
was
good
in
my
ears
.
"
Clear
that
raffle
!
"
Imagine
so
salty
a
phrase
on
the
lips
of
the
Humphrey
Van
Weyden
of
a
few
months
gone
!
There
must
have
been
a
touch
of
the
melodramatic
in
my
pose
and
voice
,
for
Maud
smiled
.
Her
appreciation
of
the
ridiculous
was
keen
,
and
in
all
things
she
unerringly
saw
and
felt
,
where
it
existed
,
the
touch
of
sham
,
the
overshading
,
the
overtone
.
It
was
this
which
had
given
poise
and
penetration
to
her
own
work
and
made
her
of
worth
to
the
world
.
The
serious
critic
,
with
the
sense
of
humour
and
the
power
of
expression
,
must
inevitably
command
the
world
's
ear
.
And
so
it
was
that
she
had
commanded
.
Her
sense
of
humour
was
really
the
artist
's
instinct
for
proportion
.
"
I
'm
sure
I
've
heard
it
before
,
somewhere
,
in
books
,
"
she
murmured
gleefully
.
I
had
an
instinct
for
proportion
myself
,
and
I
collapsed
forthwith
,
descending
from
the
dominant
pose
of
a
master
of
matter
to
a
state
of
humble
confusion
which
was
,
to
say
the
least
,
very
miserable
.
