Jack lifted his cap from his head.
"The dead," he said softly, "must be left to the mercy of the sea. We can do them no good."
The second officer saluted and hurried away.
Frank and Jack superintended the lowering of the boats. Each small craft already contained a quantity of provisions and water, and, at Jack's command, such small arms as could be hurriedly secured were thrown overboard. The wounded were lifted gently into the boats—the dead left where they had fallen. The last act was to release the prisoners. That was all that could be done for them.
At last all the boats were manned, and, at a word from Jack, they put away from the ship. Each boat was crowded, for some had been damaged in the battle with the German cruiser and made unfit for use.
Slowly the boats pulled away from the Lena.
"Which way?" asked Frank.
"Due east," replied Jack. "We must be some place off the coast of France, and, unless a storm arises, we stand a good chance of reaching land safely."
He cast his eyes toward the Lena.
"And hurry!" he commanded. "The Lena is likely to go down any moment, and, if we do not put some distance between us, she is likely to carry us under also."