Five minutes later, the Dolphin was tearing through the water at her top speed—eleven knots—and Patterson came up on the bridge.
“Who saw the seegnals first?” he inquired.
“I did, Mr. Patterson,” said Lucy.
“Ay, I thoct as much, Mistress Leslie. Even that lazy, sheeftless Irish fireman loon ae mine, Rafferty, said ye'd bring us mair guid luck.” Then he dived below again to the engines so dear to his Scotsman's heart.
The night was dark, but calm and windless, and the panting tug tore her way through a sea as smooth as glass towards where the ghastly glare of the last blue light had been seen. Twenty minutes later, Lester caught sight of the distressed ship. She was lying on her beam ends, and almost at the same moment came a loud hail—
“Steamer ahoy!”
“Clang!” went the telegraph, and the Dolphin's engines stopped, and then went astern, just in time to save her from crashing into a boat crowded with men; a second boat was close astern of the first. They came alongside, and the occupants swarmed over the tug's low bulwarks, and an old greybearded man made his way up to Lester.
“My cowardly crew have forced me to abandon my ship. We were caught in a squall yesterday, and thrown on our beam ends.” Then he fell down in a fit.
“Veer those boats astern,” cried Lester to his own men, “I'm going to hook on to that ship!”
Bailey, one of his best men, gave a yell.