Through all that bedlam Blake remained resentfully cool, angrily clear-thoughted. He saw that the steamer did not move forward. He concluded the engine-room to be deserted. And he saw both the futility and the danger of remaining where he was.
He crawled back to where he remembered the rope-coil lay, dragging the loose end of it back after him, and then lowering it over the ship’s side until it touched the water. Then he shifted this rope along the rail until it swung over the last of the line of surf-boats that bobbed and thudded against the side-plates of the gently rolling steamer. About him, all the while, he could hear the shouts of men and the staccato c***k of the rifles. But he saw to it that his rope was well tied to the rail-stanchion. Then he clambered over the rail itself, and
