Life-boat gone."
"Haven't you got a chart of Paris?"
"Chart of what?"
"Paris? With a few M'sieus on it? Good night."
Bowen let go the key, leaned back in his chair, rubbed his eyes, took
off his receiving gear and stared at the wall.
"What answer?" Nelson and his peering crew were at his shoulder.
"No answer."
"Dan we moost go up and dowse dose signal light, so no ship t'ink we ban
on shoal yet," and out onto the deck the impassive Nelson led his men.
"Good old squarehead--you're all right," muttered Bowen. "But as for
you," he gritted, "if I could only--just one grip of your throat is all
I'd ask for, and then, you dog!"
III
Harty closed his wireless office and headed for the water-front. Near
the shore-end of the breakwater he came to a halt. He could but dimly
see the beginning of the outstretching wall of concrete, but plainly
enough he could hear the combers thundering over the crest of it.
A proper night for an enemy to be adrift in a powerless hulk. Sea
enough to suit any purpose out there. And wind! From where he stood in
the lee of the donkey-engine house, to the water's edge was a full
hundred feet, and yet even so, whenever he stepped out into the open, it
was only to be drenched with spray. And out there in the blackness,
twenty miles offshore, it would be blowing good; out there on the edge
of that bank, in the hollow of the short, high, ugly seas, was a
rolling, battered light-ship; as helpless as--well, there was nothing
ashore to compare to her helplessness.
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