Possibly there is nothing at sea that thrills like the sight of a vessel on fire. Jack, it will be recalled, had witnessed such a spectacle before, but yet his heart bounded as he watched the distant glare now bright and glowing, now dull and flickering.
“Hullo, the old man has rung for full speed ahead!” exclaimed Bill, as the next moment the St. Mark’s speed was perceptibly quickened and her course changed.
Several seamen in charge of the third officer, a Mr. Smallwood, came trampling aft. They busied themselves loosening the fastenings of one of the boats and getting it ready for launching. Presently they were joined, and three additional craft were made ready for the work of life saving.
All this time the glow had been getting brighter as the St. Mark approached the burning ship. But the distance was as yet too great to make out what manner of vessel she was.
“I’d give anything to get in one of those boats,” observed Jack to Bill, as the two lads watched the preparations for lowering away.
“So would I,” agreed Bill. “Do you think there’s a chance?”
“I don’t know. I ‘deadheaded’ a radio for Mr. Smallwood to his sick mother the day we sailed. That might have some influence with him. I’ll ask him anyhow.”
Jack vainly pleaded with the at first obdurate officer, but after a long interval, he returned to Bill with a smile on his face.
“It’s all right,” he announced. “It was a hard job to get him to consent. I won him over at last. We go.”
“Hurray!” cried Bill. “Now for some oilskins! It’s not the sort of night to be without them.”