wain. A woman's
voice rose in a shriek--high, frenzied, appalled. As by an echo it was
repeated on every side, until the very air vibrated with the sound. The
serried rows of chairs were emptied, and thrust aside; white-faced,
gasping, the passengers rushed to the rail, and hung over, desperately
scanning the sea. The vibrant cry gained volume; its incoherence took
shape, and became definite words--words among those the most dreaded in
a life on sea...

"_Man overboard_!"

Katrine had leaped with the rest, had rushed to the gunwale to strain
her eyes over the retreating line of foam left by the vessel's progress.
Startled she was, and shocked, but the true realisation of the tragedy
was delayed until the moment when, afar off, clear in the blaze of the
sun, two arms appeared suddenly above the waves, groped into space,
flung themselves widely apart, and disappeared!

The sight of those helpless hands brought a terrible realisation; they
tore at the heart. Every face on board the great vessel was blanched
with horror: women wept and clung; men stood grim and silent, with lips
tightly set.

At the first sounding of the alarm, a life-belt had been tossed into the
sea, attached to a flag, which made a patch of colour to mark the spot
of the disaster. It was horrible to see how far that mark was left
behind, before, with a jar which sent a quiver throughout the ship's
great bulk, the engines reversed, in response to the order from the
bridge. Meantime the fourth officer and his men were clambering with
cat-like agility into the boat suspended over the stern-davits, which
eager hands began to lower, even before the last man had reached his
perch. Another moment, and the crew were bending to their oars, and the
boat was speeding through the water towards that floating patch of red
and blue; but there had been no further waving of hands; the straining
eyes had caught no second glimpse of a dark head.

Katrine, shaking and gasping, felt the touch of a quieting hand on her
arm, and releasing her hold of the gunwale, swayed backward with a sob
of relief. She did not need to look; the strong, quiet touch was
identification enough. She needed him, and he was there. She closed
her eyes, gripping fast to the outstretched arm.

"Will he be able to swim? Can he keep up long enough?"

"I hope so. The life-belt is there. Even if he is not, men are brought
back to life, you know, after hours of unconsciousness... He