the
nebulous ray, and now, parting the mist folds a half-moon looked down;
looked down on these two heads, mere tiny specks upon the vast ocean
surface--down, too, upon that other thing. And seeing what it was, the
revulsion of hope which shot through their two hearts was terrible.

There floated what looked like a plank. No, stay! Was it a plank? It
seemed more solid; it was oblong; and upon it, stretched out and
clinging wildly to its sides, was the figure of a man. This, then,
grotesquely exaggerated and distorted by the mist, was what had
constituted the coffin apparition.

In the shock of this blank and bitter disappointment Mona had well-nigh
lost consciousness. But upon her companion and protector the sight
produced a strangely reinvigorating effect. A gleam as of a set, fell
purpose shone from his eyes, as, beneath the sickly, moist light of the
fog-veiled moon, he watched the plank and the clinging man draw nearer
and nearer, while he guided himself and his charge silently,
imperceptibly towards it; and the meaning of the lurid, predatory look
was this:--

_He meant to have that plank_.

But the man who was already on it?

Well, he must get off it. Whatever the support was it certainly would
not uphold two, let alone three. Mona must have it--must take the place
of its present occupant. He himself could continue to swim, to float as
he was doing, just aiding himself by the support of a hand upon its
edge. The man who was on it now must yield it up.

Faint and shrill again came the cry which they had at first heard, and
it had in it the quaver of exhaustion, of terror, of despair. This time
no reply was made. But keeping behind and out of sight of the floating
waif, Roden, with a few noiseless but vigorous strokes, brought his now
unconscious charge and himself to within grasping distance of the
concern. And as he did so he could hardly control his joy. The thing
was a solid hatch, and was fitted with two strong ring-bolts, one at
each diagonal corner.

Just then, alarmed by the faint splash, the man turned. His teeth were
chattering with cold and fright, and his limbs shaking as he clung
convulsively to his support. The moon, falling for an instant upon his
anguished features, revealed the face of Lambert.

"What--who are you?" he quavered. "There's no room--no room here. The
thing won't carry more than one. Oh--Musgrave, by God!"

"Yes. Musgrave, by God!" answered Roden, a kind