"Miss Coolidge: you are there, are you not?"

"Yes; who is that?" almost a cry of delight in the voice. "You--you have a voice I know."

"I am Matthew West; but do not ask questions now. The yacht is going down, and I must break this door in to release you. Stand back while I smash the boards. You hear and understand?"

"Yes--yes: I am safely away; have no fear."

The light revealed the weapon he required just beyond where Masters lay--a heavy hatchet, still stained with blood, probably the very instrument with which the watchman had been brutally struck down. That made no difference now, and West snatched it up, and began to splinter the wood with well directed blows. He worked madly, feverishly, unable to judge there in the cabin whether he had a minute, or an hour, in which to effect their rescue. All he knew was that every second was worth saving, and with this impulse driving him, swung the sharp blade with all his strength and skill, gouging out great splinters of wood, and finally forcing the lock to yield. He sprang eagerly through the opening, the hatchet still in his grasp, and faced her.

She stood there looking straight at him, seemingly unable even yet to wholly realize the marvellous truth of his presence. The light from the swinging lamp in the big cabin beyond, streamed in through the shattered doorway, and revealed her face, pale, but unafraid, the eyes wide-open, the lips parted. An instant both paused, and then she cried out in sudden relief.

"Oh, it is really you, Captain West. I know now. What has happened? How did you come to be here?"

"Not now," he insisted. "Don't ask me now. Just come as quick as you can. Do you not realize the boat is sinking, going down under our very feet? For all I know it may take the plunge before we can reach the deck. There is no time for anything but action. Quick; let me take your hand."

She obeyed without a word, and he pressed her before him out through the door into the more brightly lighted cabin. Her eyes opened in horror at the sight of Masters, and she drew back trembling against West's arm.

"Who--who is that? A dead man?"

"I fear so; wait just a second until I learn; if he still lives we cannot leave him here."

West bent over the motionless figure; the flesh was no longer warm; and he could detect no breath. Satisfied, he regained his feet.

"It is all over with," he said gravely. "He is beyond human aid."




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