the engine-room, or lay, unconscious, in his
bunk. Well, she would soon know and she shrank.

She rubbed the glasses and looked again. There were two towropes;
_Terrier_ plunged across the rollers on _Arcturus'_ starboard bow, the
Spanish tug to port. It looked as if the wreck's steering-gear did not
work. Spray blew about the boats and the crested seas broke in foaming
turmoil against the towed vessel's side until she drew in behind the
Isleta. A few minutes afterwards she swung round the mole and Barbara
thought the picture moving.

The tugs looked very small; the half-loaded hull they towed to an
anchorage floated high above her proper water-line. Rolling on the
languid swell at the harbor mouth, she looked huge. Her rusty side was
like a warehouse wall. When she lifted her plates from the water one saw
the wet weed shine; higher up it clung, parched and dry, to the red
iron, although there were clean belts where the stuff was scraped away.
Barbara pictured the exhausted men scraping feebly when the sea was calm
and the sun did not touch the vessel's side.

All the same, the men had won a triumph. It looked impossible that the
handful of bemused ruffians she had seen start at Liverpool could have
dragged the big vessel from the bottom of the lagoon, but the thing was
done. _Arcturus_, battered and rusty, with sagging masts and broken
funnel, was coming into harbor. A big pump throbbed on board, throwing
water down her side; she flew a small, bright red ensign aft and a new
house-flag at the masthead. Barbara thought the flag flaunted proudly
and the thing was significant. Cartwright had weathered the storm, but
she had helped.

The tugs' engines stopped and Barbara's heart beat, for a yellow flag
went up. She hated the ominous signal, and turning the glasses, followed
the doctor's launch. The boat ran alongside _Terrier_, a man went on
board, returned and climbed a ladder to _Arcturus'_ deck. He did not
come back for some time and Barbara looked for Lister, but could not see
him. Then the yellow flag was hauled down and _Arcturus_ moved slowly up
the harbor.

A fleet of shore-boats followed and when the anchor dropped crowded
about the ship. Barbara braced herself and waited. Half the voyage was
over and when the engines were cleaned and mended _Arcturus_ would steam
to England. The salvors had won, but sometimes victory cost much, and
Barbara knew she might have to pay.

A launch with an awning steamed to the