It was not a proper occasion to go into the matter. The Bird of Freedom was again approaching the Polarity.
"Stand by there!" he shouted to the two seamen who had been ordered to receive the securing ropes.
There was no reply. Rogers and Payne were not likely to maintain a sullen silence when within hailing distance of Captain Stormleigh.
"Perhaps it's the noise of the motors," remarked Ranworth. "Stop her, Guy."
Guy obeyed promptly. The Bird of Freedom was now to leeward of the ship, and comparatively safe from any more squalls.
Leaving the helm, Ranworth agilely ascended the steel ladder communicating with the almost flat roof. As his head and shoulders drew clear of the circular hatchway, he saw that Rogers and Payne were no longer there.
A coil of rope hurtled through the air. Securing the end, he took a couple of turns round a bollard. As he did so, Ranworth noticed that most of the men of the Polarity were aft, their eyes fixed in a certain direction.
A dozen boats' lengths from the ship was the Polarity's cutter. The boat's crew were backing slowly, while Travers, the second mate, was standing in the stern sheets and steadying himself with the yoke-lines.
"We've lost them, sir," shouted Captain Stormleigh. "They must have sunk like stones."
The gust that had blown the Bird of Freedom upon her beam ends had precipitated Rogers and Payne into the bitterly cold water. Weighed down by their heavy clothing and sea boots, they had sunk immediately.