something that duddered
away under it and sank.

"He's gone, whoever he is," cried Bompard. "No use hunting for him.
Listen, there's more." Voices shrill and voices bubbling came through
the blackness from here and from there. The men tried to locate them and
rowed now in this direction, now in that--always wrong. Once a voice
sudden and shrill and close to the boat cried "A moi," and at the same
instant Bompard's oar struck something, but they found nothing, the
voice had ceased.

They could see, now, the waves like spectres evolving themselves from
the night, a vision touching the very limit of dimness, and now as they
entered a mist patch--nothing. The voices to port and starboard were
ceasing, one by one--being blotted out. Then silence fell, broken only
by the sound of the oars. La Touche shouted and shouted again, but there
came no response. Then came Bompard's voice. "Is that hooker gone, too?"

"Curse her, yes. I was the lookout. Sailing without lights."

"This woman seems dead."

"It's the girl. I heard her squeal out as they hove her in. Let her lie.
Well, this is a start."

"A black job, but we're out of it, so far."

"Ay, as far as we've got--as far as we've got. Well, there's no use
rowing, there's no sea to hurt her, let her toss."

The oars came in and the fellows slithered from their seats on to the
bottom boards. Ballasted so the boat rode easy. They lay like shivering
dogs, grumbling and cursing and then, as they lay, the talk went on.

"Mon Dieu! What a thing--but we've grub and water all right."

"Ay, the boats are all right for that."

There was a long silence and then La Touche began in a high complaining
voice:

"I was lookout, but it was not my fault, that I swear. I saw nothing
till a big three-master broke out of the smother making to cross our
bows, no lights shewing, snoring along asleep. Then I shouted. The
bridge had seen her too and put the engines full speed ahead. They'd
mistaken the distance, thought to clear her. I got aft. Hadn't reached
the port alley way when the smash came. It was all the fault of those
fools on the bridge."

"Who knows," came Bompard's voice. "Things happen and what is to be must
be. Well, they're all gone a hundred fathoms deep and here we are
drifting about with a dead woman. I'd sooner have any other cargo if I
was given my choice."

"Sure she's dead?"

"Ay, she's dead sure enough by the way she's lying, not a breath in
her."

Neither man