"Somebody has got the donkey-pump at work," said Hughie. "It may be Angus, after all, monkeying with the water-ballast. Hallo!" He leaned over the stern-rail and peered down. "Do you notice anything unusual about the propeller?"

"It seems to be kicking up a bit of a dust," said Allerton. "Is it going round faster, or getting nearer the surface?"

"It's half out of the water," said Hughie. "That means that the old man has pumped out the after double-bottom tank. Look, we're all down by the head!"

The two stepped out from behind the wheelhouse and gazed forward. The flush deck of the Orinoco was undoubtedly running downhill towards the bows.

"What's the game?" inquired Allerton excitedly.

Hughie was thinking. Presently he said:--

"I'm not sure, but his next move should tell us. Either he is trying to drive her nose under and sink her by manipulating the water-ballast, which seems a hopeless job in a flat calm like this, and suicidal if it comes off; or else he is working up for a scare of some kind, which will frighten the crew into--Hallo? what's that?"

There was a warning cry from Mr. Dingle, who was standing right forward in the bows.

"Something right ahead, sir! Looks like--"

There was an answering shout from the bridge, where the captain was standing by the wheel, followed by a jangling of telegraph-bells. Next moment the Orinoco gave a jar and a stagger, and Hughie and Allerton pitched forward on to their noses.

There were shouts and cries all over the ship, and men came tumbling up the hatchways.

"We've struck something," gasped Allerton.

"Struck your grandmother!" grunted Hughie, who was sitting up rubbing his nose tenderly. "That jar came from directly underneath us. It was caused by Angus reversing his engines without giving the ship time to slow down. I daresay he never even shut off steam. Likely enough he's lifted the engines off their beds. Well, perhaps he had finished with them anyway. Come along forward."

By this time a frightened crowd had a.s.sembled on the deck of the Orinoco, which, lying motionless on the silent sea, artistically tilted up by the stern,--Hughie began to grasp the inwardness of Mr. Angus's manoeuvres with the water-ballast,--presented a sufficiently alarming appearance even on that calm night.

Mr. Dingle and the captain, the one hanging over the bows and the other standing in an att.i.tude of alertness on the bridge, were sustaining between them a conversation which vaguely suggested to Hughie a carefully rehea.r.s.ed "cross-talk" duologue between two knockabout artistes of the Variety firmament--say the Brothers Bimbo in one of their renowned impromptu "patter scenes." The resemblance was enhanced by the fact that the "patter" was delivered _fortissimo_ by both performers, and each repeated the other's most telling phrases in tones which made it impossible for the audience to avoid hearing them.

"What was it?" shouted Bimbo Senior (as represented by Captain Kingdom).

"Lump of wreckage!" roared Bimbo Junior, from a prolonged scrutiny of the ship's forefoot.

"Lump of wreckage?" bellowed Bimbo Senior.

"Lump of wreckage!" corroborated Bimbo Junior.

"Of course it _might_ have been ice," suggested Number One, at the top of his voice.

"Might have been ice," replied the conscientious echo.

"Pairsonally I'm inclined tae believe it was jist a wee bit coral island," interpolated a third voice, with painful and stunning distinctness. The Chief Engineer had suddenly made his appearance on the bridge.

The captain was obviously much put out. In the first place, coral islands are not plentiful in the North Atlantic, and there are limits even to the gullibility of an audience composed of foreign deck-hands and half-civilised firemen. Secondly, the axiom that two is company and three none applies even to cross-talk duologues. Thirdly, Mr. Angus was excessively drunk, and consequently the laboriously planned comedietta at present in progress might, owing to his inartistic and uncalled-for intrusion upon the scene, take a totally unrehea.r.s.ed turn at any moment.

The captain lost no time.

"What report have you from the engine-room, Mr. Angus?" he inquired loudly and pointedly.

Mr. Angus, suddenly recognising his cue, and realising almost with tears that he had been imperilling the success of the entire piece by unseemly "gagging," pulled himself together, returned to his text, and announced that the ship was badly down by the head and the stokehold awash.

"There's nothing else for it," yelled the captain resignedly, "but to leave her. Clear away the boats, Mr. Gates!"

Having thus established a good working explanation of the disaster, and incidentally enlisted the entire audience--those members of it, that is, who were not already doing service in the _claque_--as unbia.s.sed witnesses for the defence in case the insurance company turned nasty, the intrepid commander descended from the bridge to his cabin, to collect a few necessaries pending the abandonment of his beloved vessel.

Hughie and Allerton surveyed each other.

"Which boat are you going in?" inquired Allerton.

"None," said Hughie.

"Going to stay on board?"

Hughie nodded.

"But she'll sink under our feet."

"I don't believe she's as badly damaged as all that. There's some game on here."

"I don't suppose she's damaged at all," said Allerton, "but you can be sure they won't be such blamed fools as to leave the ship floating about to be picked up. Old Angus will let water into her before he leaves, if he hasn't started the process already."

"Well, I'm not going in any of those boats," said Hughie. "If the Orinoco sinks, I'll float to Europe on a hen-coop."

"May I have half of it?" said Allerton.

"You may," said Hughie.

And so the S. S. Orinoco Salvage Company, Limited, was floated, and the Board of Directors entered upon their new duties at once.

By this time the boats had been swung outboard and their provisioning completed. They were now lowered from the davits, and the men began to take their places. There was no panic, for the night was calm, and the Orinoco showed no signs of settling deeper. Messrs. Gates and Dingle were already at their respective tillers. Captain Kingdom and Mr. Angus were standing by the davits to which the whale-boat was still shackled.

Mr. Goble, apparently in no hurry, was leaning over the bulwarks in the darkness not far from Hughie and Allerton, dispa.s.sionately regarding the crew's preparations for departure. He approached nearer.

"There's a wheen fowk in thae boats," he observed. "I doot we'd be safer on board."

Hughie turned to him and nodded comprehendingly.

"That's my opinion too," he said, "and Percy's. We're thinking of staying here."

Mr. Goble regarded him reflectively.

"Is that a fact?" he said. "Weel, I'll bide too."

And so a third member was co-opted on to the Board of Directors.

"We'd better get out of sight," said Hughie. "They won't like leaving us behind. I think I know a good place to wait. Come along."

The trio slipped round behind the chart-house, pa.s.sed along a deserted stretch of the deck, and disappeared down the engine-room hatchway.

The engine-room was illuminated by a couple of swinging lanterns. A black and greasy flood of water glistened on the iron floor below, filling the crank-pits and covering the propeller-shaft. The doors leading to the stokehold were standing open, and they could see that the floors there too were flooded, though the water had not reached the level of the fire-bars. Owing to the immobility of the ship, its oily surface was almost unruffled, and the engine-room itself was curiously quiet after the turmoil on deck. The fires were burning low, but occasionally a glowing clinker slipped from between the bars into the blood-red flood beneath, with a sizzling splash. The steam was hissing discontentedly in the gauges.