It was not until ten o'clock that a trawler came within distance of seeing them, but apparently their signals of distress were not noticed, for the fishing vessel passed on to its work and disappeared over the horizon.
A few fitful gleams of sunlight mocked their shiverings with promise of warmth—promise unfulfilled. Their brandy was now exhausted, and some ship's biscuits in the boatswain's pocket were sodden and uneatable. Thirst began to add to the horrors of the situation. Olive was moaning for water, and they had none to give her.
The afternoon was far advanced before a Copenhagen-Hull packet ran across them, taking on board three exhausted men and a woman in delirium.
CHAPTER XXXVI
FINALITY
At Hull, prepared by wireless, doctors and nurses were waiting for Olive when the vessel reached port late at night. As Matheson hurried with the ambulance along the quayside, a tubby little figure of a man came up to him.
"You remember me—Martin?" he asked. "I'm covering this story for the Daily Truth."
"Come with me," answered Matheson. "I'll give you the information you want presently."
He had first to see Olive safely in hospital. It was all that he could do for her. Then he returned to the journalist.
"I suppose that you know that the other two boats were picked up early this morning?" said Martin.