Of a sudden something brushed against his shoulder.
It was Andy's body, and opening his eyes he saw dimly a hand clutching a knife.
Once, twice, three, the blade was plunged into the back of the Chinaman. Then it came upward a fourth time and slashed across the crazy man's wrist.
The sea was died with the blood of the Celestial and slowly but surely that steel-like grip relaxed, until Oscar found himself free.
But he was almost too weak to help himself and Andy had to assist him to the surface.
Here willing hands helped both to the deck of the new Holland and down into the interior, where both sank on the floor exhausted.
Oscar looked white and faint, and not without reason, for never before had he been so close to death.
"We are well rid of him," he said, after he and Andy had told their stories. Then he caught his chum's hand. "Andy, that is another debt I owe you."
For several days after this nothing unusual happened on board of the new Holland.
Oscar had now determined to go in search of the Chinese cruiser, which was said to have Martha Adams on board as a prisoner.