“Mary,” I cried, “fire again!”
She drew the trigger.
“Again!”
The clear report whizzed like a bullet past my ear.
Simultaneously with the second report a ball of blue fire shot up into the sky. Another followed, and another.
A moment after a red light shone clear upon the sea.
“She sees us!” I cried, “God be praised! Mary, darling, she sees us!”
I waved the lamp furiously. But there was no need to wave it any longer. The red light drew nearer and nearer; the throbbing of the engines louder and louder, and the revolutions of the propeller sounded like a pulse heating through the water. The shadow broadened and loomed larger. I could hear the water spouting out of her side and the blowing off of the safety-valve.
Soon the vessel grew a defined shape against the stars, and then a voice, thinned by the distance, shouted, “What light is that?”
I cried to the boatswain: “Answer, for God’s sake! My voice is weak.”