nd withdrew into the darkness
outside.

Captain Owen Kettle's toilet was not of long duration. Like most master
mariners who do business along those crowded steam lanes of the Western
Ocean, he slept in most of his clothes when at sea as a regular habit,
and in fact only stripped completely for the few moments which were
occupied by his morning's tub. If needful, he could always go out on
deck at a second's notice, and be ready to remain there for twenty-four
hours. But in this instance there was no immediate hurry, and so he
spent a full minute and a half over his toilet, and emerged with washed
hands and face, sprucely brushed hair and beard, and his person attired
in high rubber thigh-boots and leather-bound black oilskins.

The night was black and thick with a drizzle of rain, and a heavy breeze
snored through the _Flamingo's_ scanty rigging. The second mate on the
bridge was beating his fingerless woollen gloves against his ribs as a
cure for cold fingers. The first mate and the third had already turned
out, and were on the boatskids helping the carpenter with the housings,
and overhauling davit falls. On that part of the horizon against which
the _Flamingo's_ bows sawed with great sweeping dives was a streaky,
flickering yellow glow.

Kettle went on to an end of the bridge and peered ahead through the
bridge binoculars. "A steamer," he commented, "and a big one too; and
she's finely ablaze. Not much help we shall be able to give. It will be
a case of taking off the crew, if they aren't already cooked before we
get there." He looked over the side at the eddy of water that clung to
the ship's flank. "I see you're shoving her along," he said to the
second mate.

"I sent word down to the engine-room to give her all they knew the
moment we raised the glow. I thought you wouldn't grudge the coal, sir."

"No, quite right. Hope there aren't too many of them to be picked off,
or we shall make a tight fit on board here."

"Funny we should be carrying the biggest cargo the old boat's ever had
packed into her. But we shall find room to house a few poor old
sailormen. They won't mind much where they stow, as long as they're
picked up out of the wet. B-r-r-rh!" shivered the second mate, "I
shouldn't much fancy open-boat cruising in the Western Ocean
this weather."

Captain Kettle stared on through the shiny brass binoculars. "Call all
hands," he said quietly. "That's a big ship ahead of us, and she'll
carry a lot of pe