Already she was well down by the head, and blazing furiously from stem to stern. To windward of her the seas were breaking heavily against the hull of the burning ship. Already she had lost way and was drifting broadside on to the wind. Cascades of water pouring over her listing deck had no effect in quenching the flames but merely raised enormous clouds of steam to mingle with the flame-tinged, oily smoke. To leeward the sea was calm for almost a mile, owing to the liberation of the oil. And not only was it calm: it was a placid lake of fire, as the floating, highly inflammable coating of petroleum burnt furiously in half a dozen detached areas.

"See any signs of a boat?" demanded the Old Man.

"No, sir," replied Anstey.

"Thought not," was the rejoinder. "A boat would be swamped to wind'ard, and burnt to a cinder to lee'ard. Doubt even whether the poor fellows had a chance to lower away—— What's that on our port bow? By heavens, Anstey, it's a boat!"

Both men levelled their binoculars. Mostyn, keeping discreetly in the background, made use of the chartroom telescope.

Silhouetted against the glare was a ship's boat. There were people in her, but they were making no apparent effort to draw away from the danger zone. Rising and falling on the long, oily swell, the frail craft was midway between two patches of fiercely burning oil that threatened to converge and destroy the boat and its human freight.

"We'll have to risk it, Anstey," decided the Old Man, as he rang for half speed. "I only hope the lascars'll stick it. I'm going to take the old hooker between those patches of burning oil. We'll try towing the boat clear. If that fails we'll have to lower one of our own boats. Pass the word for the serang to stand by to heave a line, and then give an eye to the secuni. If he runs the ship into either of those patches it'll be a serious matter."

"Ay, ay, sir."

Ringing for stop, Captain Bullock knew that there was sufficient way upon the ship to enable her to close the boat without the former being out of control. Allowance had also to be made for the wind, which, owing to the alteration of course, was now two points on the starboard bow.

The heat was now quite perceptible, while at intervals wisps of black, suffocating smoke swept to lee'ard, completely enveloping the West Barbican. On either side of her were expanses of burning oil, bubbling and popping in a series of miniature explosions, as the heated water beneath the oil vapourized and blew out through the covering layer of burning viscous liquid.