The joyful cry of a light at once put new life and hope into the hearts of the hungry, drenched, and shivering occupants of the seine-boat. Those who had huddled together under the wet canvas of the top-sail in the vain effort to keep warm, as well as those who were pulling hopelessly and wearily at the oars, gazed eagerly in the direction indicated by Breeze. Yes, there it was, faint and yellow in the distance, apparently that of some vessel approaching them from the southward. They could see it as their boat rose on the crests of the great billows, though it was lost again when they sank into the black hollows between them.
Soon they were able to distinguish a second yellow light, lower than the other, and by the position of these they knew that the approaching vessel was a steamer, and a large one at that. Then her red and green side-lights came into view. They watched anxiously to see which of these would disappear first, in order to determine on which side of them she was going to pass. If the red light should be lost to view, then they would know she was passing to windward of them. In that case there would not be the slightest chance of any cries they could utter reaching her, and she would go on her way unconscious of their presence. If the green light should disappear, it would be a sign that she was about to pass to leeward. In that case there was a possibility that their shouts, borne down the gale, might attract the attention of the watch on her deck. Still, she might not stop even then, and it was an almost unheard-of thing for a boat to be picked up at sea in the darkness of midnight, amid the noise and tumult of a gale. They fully understood their position, but, slight as their chance was, they watched for it hopefully.
All at once, as they were lifted from a deep, watery hollow, and looked for the lights, they gave utterance to exclamations of dismay. They could still see the green light and the two yellow lights, but the red one was no longer visible.
“’Tain’t no use. She’s going to windward of us;” muttered one of the men, at once giving up all hope, and again lying down in the bottom of the boat. “Luck’s against us, and we might as well reckon on help from the old Curlew as from that craft.”
Most of the others evidently thought as he did, and they turned their eyes resolutely away from the lights, as though determined to be no longer tantalized by them. But Breeze could not give up so easily, and he still watched the lights whenever a lifting wave afforded him an opportunity of seeing them.
What! Can it be? Or are his eyes deceiving him? No. It certainly is the red light again, now much more distinct than before. The steamer has altered her course and is heading directly for them. The men are filled with new life at the boy’s exultant cry announcing his discovery. They spring up and gaze incredulously. It is true, and both lights are now to be plainly seen, not more than half a mile away and bearing directly towards them. Now they fear that she may run them down, and begin to pull to windward, so as to give her a clear berth. At last she is close upon them, and the green light disappears, while the red shows clear and steady.
“Now for a shout, men! All together as I give the word. One! two! three!” commands the skipper.
It is a wild, desperate cry that startles the lookout on the forward deck of the steamer from the half reverie into which he has fallen.
Again it comes to his ears, and again, borne on the wings of the gale across the angry waters; and now it is heard by the steamer’s captain, who has not left the pilot-house that night.
A gong clangs down among the engines, and a hoarse order is shouted to the engineer through the speaking-tube. The great screw under the steamer’s stern stops for a moment, and then churns the water violently as its motion is reversed and it revolves rapidly backward.