The officers there had plainly seen the signal rocket this time, and the green ball seemed to shoot up into the clouds from directly beneath the bow of the "Long Island." The battleship was at that moment riding a mountainous swell, while the vessel from which the signal had been fired was wallowing in the trough of the sea far below. It seemed as if the battleship must slide down the steep wall of water and crush the vessel laboring in the hollow so far beneath them.
"Port your helm!" commanded the captain. "Slow speed astern, starboard engine. Hold her there!"
"There she is, sir," shouted the executive officer, leveling his night glass on the sea valley.
"What do you make of her?"
"Not much of anything. I see faint lights aboard, but that is all."
"Number one searchlight there," called the captain.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the sailor in charge of the light.
"Throw a light off the port quarter and see if you can pick up that ship."
"Aye, aye, sir."
An instant later a broad shaft of light pierced the blackness of the night. The beam of light traveled slowly about, finally coming to rest on an object in the sea some distance ahead. On this object the officers focused their night glasses.