But now the wreck was stuck firm once more.īlackthorne showed them how to take the ropes to one side, then to the other, trying to ease the wreck to port or starboard but it was as fixed as though anchored. They picked themselves up, laughing, congratulating themselves, and leaned on the ropes again. The wreck shifted a fraction and they redoubled their efforts, then it jerked loose and they sprawled in the sand. Father Alvito was standing on a dune, watching them.Īgain the samurai strained against the hold of the sand and the sea, then a chant sprang up and they tugged in unison. No, no thank- Blackthorne stopped and shaded his eyes. I'll have to buoy it, then the tide'll do the work and lift it, he said aloud in English. Unhurriedly, he dressed and stuck his swords in his sash. He went to get his clothes and swords but his men brought them to him quickly. No, thank you, Naga-san, Blackthorne said. The priest looked drawn but there was friendliness in his face, as there had been before their violent quarrel outside Mishima. Good afternoon, Blackthorne said, going over to Alvito. Then he pulled him ashore again and twenty yards from the shallows he shoved him off. Blackthorne joined him and when the man's head went under he pulled him up, none too kindly, and made him swim, letting him flounder but never dangerously all the way out to the wreck, the man coughing and retching and holding on. Fearfully the samurai began to walk into the sea, knowing he was a dead man.
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