“That’s fair,” he said. “Go ahead. I’ll follow.”
Hastily, Jackson led the way up the slanting passage to the topsy-turvy stairway, and so to the deck. A single glance about him and he turned on the other in fury. “Curse you,” he roared, “you’ve drowned us both with your infernal palavering!”
The decks were deserted; not a human being remained on them. Tossing on the waves, just visible in the glowing light, were two of the ship’s boats, crowded with passengers. The nearest was already a hundred yards away, and rapidly increasing its distance. The guard stared at it hungrily.
“There goes our last chance!” he muttered.
Howard eyed the tiny craft dispassionately.
“Oh! I don’t know,” he said. “If that boat was your best chance, it was a slim one. Never mind, Jackson; take comfort from me. Nobody doomed to hang was ever drowned. I’ll send you home to your wife and babies yet—I suppose you have a wife and babies; people like you always do.”
“Here! Don’t you take my wife’s name on your lips!”
“Look! I thought so.”
The boat, poised for an instant on the crest of a great wave, suddenly lunged forward, raced madly down a watery slope, and thrust its nose deep into an opposite swelling wave. It did not come up. Long did the two men on the steamer watch, but nothing, living or dead, appeared amid the heaving waves.
At last Howard’s tense features relaxed.