“‘Bannister wad like better to go home on a liner an’ eat in the saloon. Mind ye what they said o’ Holdock & Steiner’s food that night at Radley’s? Keep her awa’, man—keep her awa’. A tow’s a tow, but a derelict’s big salvage.’
“‘E-eh!’ said Bell. ‘Yon’s an inshot o’ yours, Mac. I love ye like a brother. We’ll bide whaur we are till daylight’; an’ he kept her awa’.
“Syne up went a rocket forward, an’ twa on the bridge, an’ a blue light aft. Syne a tar-barrel forward again.
“‘She’s sinkin’,’ said Bell. ‘It’s all gaun, an’ I’ll get no more than a pair o’ night-glasses for pickin’ up young Bannister—the fool!’
“‘Fair an’ soft again,’ I said. ‘She’s signallin’ to the south of us. Bannister knows as well as I that one rocket would bring the Kite. He’ll no be wastin’ fireworks for nothin’. Hear her ca’!’
“The Grotkau whustled an’ whustled for five minutes, an’ then there were more fireworks—a regular exhibeetion.
“‘That’s no for men in the regular trade,’ says Bell. ‘Ye’re right, Mac. That’s for a cuddy full o’ passengers.’ He blinked through the night-glasses when it lay a bit thick to southward.
“‘What d’ ye make of it?’ I said.
“‘Liner,’ he says. ‘Yon’s her rocket. Ou, ay; they’ve waukened the gold-strapped skipper, an’—noo they’ve waukened the passengers. They’re turnin’ on the electrics, cabin by cabin. Yon’s anither rocket! They’re comin’ up to help the perishin’ in deep watters.’
“‘Gie me the glass,’ I said. But Bell danced on the bridge, clean dementit. ‘Mails-mails-mails!’ said he. ‘Under contract wi’ the Government for the due conveyance o’ the mails; an’ as such, Mac, ye’ll note, she may rescue life at sea, but she canna tow!—she canna tow! Yon’s her night-signal. She’ll be up in half an hour!’