the laboring engines indicated that the men held out and
Lister fixed his thoughts on his machinery. One could not see much, but
while he turned the valve-wheel he listened. If a bearing got hot or a
brass shook loose, he would hear the jar. An engine running as it ought
to run was like a well-tuned instrument.

He heard no discord. The heavy thud of the cross-heads, flashing between
their guides, beat time to the clang of the valve-gear, a pump throbbed
like a kettledrum, and something tinkled like a high-pitched triangle.
All went well, the engines were good and _Terrier_ stubbornly forged
ahead.

By and by the strain was less marked. The load was getting lighter and
after a time Lister let go the wheel and wiped his wet face. He could
stand on the platform without support, the plunges were easy and
regular. Calling a man to relieve him, he went to the door.

The sea was white, but it no longer ran in crested ridges and a vague
dark line crossed the foam ahead. Sometimes part of the line vanished
and reappeared like a row of dots with broad gaps between. Lister knew
it was breakwater. On the other side anchor-lights tossed, and in the
background a dull, reflected illumination indicated a town. Then the
gong rang and Lister went back to the platform. In a few minutes he
would get the signal to stop his engines. The first struggle was over;
Brown had made Holyhead.

CHAPTER II

THE WRECK

The night was calm, but now and then a faint, hot wind blew from the
shadowy coast, and rippling the water, brought a strange, sour smell.
Lister did not know the smell; Brown knew and frowned, for he had been
broken by the malaria that haunts West African river mouths. Heavy dew
dripped from the awnings on _Terrier's_ bridge and in places trickled
through the material, since canvas burns in the African sun. Brown
searched the dark coast with his glasses, trying to find the marks he
had noted on the chart. Lister leaned against the rails and mused about
the voyage.

They had ridden out a winter's gale in the Bay of Biscay and for a night
had lost the hulk and the men on board. Then they went into Vigo, where
Lister's firemen wrecked a wine shop and it cost him much in bribes to
save them from jail. He had another taste of their quality at Las
Palmas, where they made trouble with the port guards and Brown brawled
in the cheap wine shops behind the cathedral. In fact, it was some
relief when the captain fell off the steam t