Clearly Preston's case required medical aid. Selwyn was in one of the boats, but whether they were in company or not Olive had no idea.
"Hold up the lamp, Mahmed," she ordered. "High up."
The boy obeyed, while Olive, shading her eyes from the heavy rain, peered around in case any of the other boats might be displaying a light. It was a doubtful point. Even if they had, the torrential downpour would tremendously curtail the range of visibility of the low-powered light.
In fact, held high above Mahmed's head, the rays simply illuminated a circular patch of rain-threshed water, a little more than a dozen yards in radius, Beyond was an impenetrable wall of darkness.
An involuntary cry came from Olive Baird's lips. She could hardly believe the evidence of her eyes, for floating inertly within an oar's length of the boat was a man—Peter Mostyn.
Whether he was alive or dead Olive knew not. His usually tanned features looked a ghastly greenish hue, his eyes were closed, and his head was hanging sideways. His arms were moving slightly, but the movement was purely automatic as the lifebelt-clad figure lifted to the gentle undulations of the sea.
Startled by Olive's cry, Mahmed looked in the direction to which the girl was pointing. His fright at seeing, as he thought, the dead body of his master, was almost disastrous in its result. The upheld lamp slipped from his nerveless fingers and fell clattering upon the gunwale. For an instant it seemed uncertain whether it would drop into the sea or not, but luckily a movement of the boat slid it inboard.
But the fall had extinguished the lamp. Mahmed was in too much of a blue funk to relight it. Olive settled the question by taking the box of matches from him and lighting it herself.
Neither of the two lascars for'ard would move a finger to row towards the Wireless Officer. Superstition akin to panic held them in its grip. They would not—they could not—use their oars. Every bit of courage seemed to have oozed out of them.
Seizing one of the spare oars lying across the thwarts, Olive, using the unwieldy ash paddle-wise, slowly brought the boat nearer and nearer the seemingly inanimate man. Had there been any wind the task would have been almost impossible, owing to the high freeboard of the lightly laden boat; but in the absence of even a faint breeze Olive was able to accomplish her aim.