Of a sudden she caught the clang of the bell, the pilot’s signal for half speed.
“He’s missed the bell. They are safe. They’ll lay outside until the fog lifts. Thank-thank God!”
Still she drifted out to sea. But her own peril was lost in great joy because of the safety of others.
Another jangling of bells. Quarter speed.
A thought struck her all of a heap. Hastily unwrapping the bell clapper of the buoy, she struck the bell a sharp tap. Again, again and yet again this strange signal sounded. It was the pilot’s signal for half speed.
Three times she repeated it. Then came the ship’s bell with the same signal.
“They heard,” she whispered tensely.
Then, with a throbbing heart, she sent out in Morse signals the call for help, S. O. S.
There sounded the rattle of chains. They were lowering a boat.
Moments of silence followed, then from out the fog there came,