waters. They shouted with all their might. The wind hurled
their words away in disdain of the puny effort.

Matheson had pocketed a flask of brandy when the call of all hands on
deck had sent him tumbling out of his berth. He now poured some of the
spirit down Olive's throat, and passed the flask on to the men.

"Be sparing with it," he warned.

Then he set to work to make his moaning wife as comfortable as the
terrible circumstances of their plight would permit. He took off his
coat and got her into it, binding her cork jacket around. A rope was
trailing from the stern and he secured this and tied it round her waist,
giving one end to Fraser to hold and keeping tight hold of the other
himself.

Very little was said as the endless hours of the night dragged their
leaden length to a sullen dawn.

"Give me the morphia!" Olive had moaned at intervals, in a delirium of
fever.

The seaman, who had been the man on watch when the "Starlight" struck
the unlighted derelict, had cursed intermittently at the cause of the
disaster. "Why didn't they show a blasted light?" he kept on repeating
with obstinate illogicality. "Why didn't the fools show a blasted
light?"

"Old man Larssen will give you hell when we get to shore."

Olive, in her delirium, caught at the words. "I can see the shore!" she
cried. "Over there--over there! Why don't you row? You want to kill me
first!"

Matheson tried to soothe her.

"We'll soon be on shore. A boat will pick us up at daybreak."

"Why didn't they show a blasted light?" cursed the seaman.

The sullen dawn uncurtained a waste of slag-coloured, heaving waters.
The gale had spent its sudden fury, as though its work were now
accomplished, but the sky was grey and inhospitable. Matheson raised
himself on his knees on the keel of the boat again and again to search
around, but no sail or steamer-smoke gave hope of rescue.

It was not until ten o'clock that a trawler came within distance of
seeing them, but apparently their signals of distress were not noticed,
for the fishing vessel passed on to its work and disappeared over the
horizon.

A few fitful gleams of sunlight mocked their shiverings with promise of
warmth--promise unfulfilled. Their brandy was now exhausted, and some
ship's biscuits in the boatswain's pocket were sodden and uneatable.
Thirst began to add to the horrors of the situation. Olive was moaning
for water, and they had none to give her.

The afternoon was far adva