chimneys of hell poke up through de ocean hereabouts, Mijnheer."
"Cordieu!" de Grandin swore softly to himself. "I think he has spoken truth, Friend Trowbridge. Now if—Grand Dieu, see! What is that?"
Some distance off our port bow a brand of yellow fire burned a parabola against the black sky, burst into a shower of sparks high above the horizon and flung a constellation of colored fire-balls into the air. A second flame followed the first, and a third winged upward in the wake of the second. "Rockets," de Grandin announced. "A ship is in distress over there, it would seem."
Bells clanged and jangled as the engine room telegraph sent orders from the bridge; there was a clanking of machinery as the screws churned in opposite directions and the steering mechanism brought the ship's head about toward the distress signals.
"I think we had best be prepared, my friend," de Grandin whispered as he reached upward to the rack above us and detached two kapok swimming jackets from their straps. "Come, slip this over your shoulders, and if you have anything in your cabin you would care to save, get it at once," he advised.
"You're crazy, man," I protested, pushing the life preserver away. "We aren't in any danger. Those lights were at least five miles away, and even if that other ship is fast on a reef our skipper would hear the breakers long before we were near enough to run aground."
"Nom d'un nom!" the little Frenchman swore in vexation. "Friend Trowbridge, you are one great zany. Have you no eyes in that so empty head of yours? Did you not ohserve how those rockets went up?"
"How they went up?" I repeated. "Of course I did; they were fired from the deck—perhaps the bridge—of some ship about five miles away."
"So?" he replied m a sarcastic whisper. "Five miles, you say? And you, a physician, do not know that the human eye sees only about five miles over a plane surface? How, then, if the distressed ship is five miles distant, could those flares have appeared to rise from a greater height than our own deck? Had they really been fired from sea-level—even from a masthead, at that distance—they should have appeared to rise across the horizon. As it was, they first became visible at a considerable height."
"Nonsense," I rejoined; "whoever would be setting off rockets in midair in this part of the world?"
"Who, indeed?" he answered, gently forcing the swimming coat on me. "That question, mon ami, is precisely what those Messieurs Lloyd are paying me ten pounds a day to answer. Hark!"
Distinctly, directly in our path, sounded the muttering roar of waves breaking against rocks.
Clang! The ship's telegraph shrieked the order to reverse, to put about, to the engine room from the bridge. Wheels and chains rattled, voices shouted hoarse orders through the dark, and the ship shivered from stem to stern as the engines struggled hysterically to break our course toward destruction.
Too late! Like a toy boat caught in a sudden wind squall, we lunged forward, gathering speed with each foot we traveled. There was a rending crash like all the crockery in the world being smashed at once, de Grandin and I fell headlong to the deck and shot along the smooth boards like a couple of ball players sliding for second base, and the stout little Mevrouw listed suddenly to port, sending ns banging against the deck rail.
"Quick, quick, my friend!" de
