The girl did so, and McPhulach waved it gently to and fro to dry the ink.

"So ye've made ye'r intentions known tae the crew," he remarked.

"Yes."

"An' hoo did they tak' it?"

"Not very well at first. I shouldn't be surprised if some of them tried to make trouble, especially as they know we have treasure aboard."

"Aye, I shouldna be sairprised. Sic an unG.o.dly lot o' heathen I've never sailed wi' before. But ye're a michty plucky la.s.sie. Mind, ye're no me ideal of a woman, but gin it wasna that I'm a wee bit confused in me matrimonial obligations I dinna say that I wouldna marry ye mesel'."

"It's good of you, I'm sure."

"Nae, nae, dinna thank me," answered McPhulach hastily, "I wasna meanin'

to propose tae ye. It jest crossed me mind like that ye'd mak' a guid wife gin ye was properly trained." He rose to his feet and yawned. "I'm for turnin' in," he said, "so I'll be wishin' ye guid nicht, Miss Fletcher."

"Good-night," she answered, and the engineer left the chart-room. When he had gone the girl took from a drawer a chart, pencil, and parallel rulers, and, sitting down, marked out the ship's course. This done, she wrote up the log and then stepped out on to the bridge, just as two relief quartermasters came up to take the wheel over.

"I shall only want one man at the wheel now," she said. "The storm, I think, has pa.s.sed over."

A little later on, when she was taking off her sea-boots in the chart-room preparatory to lying down, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said.

It was McPhulach, who, with an oilskin over his pyjamas, stood at the door.

"I jest wanted to mak' sairtain, Miss Fletcher, that ye didna misunderstand me a whiles back," he said anxiously.

"Misunderstand what?" she asked in surprise.

"Weel, I'd like tae mak' it clear that I didna propose tae ye. I wouldna like ye tae attach any false hope to what I said aboot marryin' ye mesel' gin I was able. It were jest a wee bit joke, ye'll ken."

She rea.s.sured him concerning her intentions, and the engineer, with a sigh of relief, returned to his bunk.

CHAPTER XXI

THE SIGNAL GUN

The morning dawned bright and cloudless, with every promise of a spell of fine weather. But although the hurricane had spent itself, there was still a heavy sea running which impeded the work of clearing up the decks and repairing the damage wrought by the storm. In the brilliant, penetrating sunshine, the _Hawk_ presented a disreputable appearance: her funnel encrusted with dirty grey rime, both her for'ad derricks a heap of splintered wood and tangled cordage, her boats smashed to matchwood, and her decks a depository of wreckage of all sorts.

Dora Fletcher had been able to s.n.a.t.c.h only a couple of hours' sleep during the night, but when dawn broke she went to see Calamity. She found him tossing in his bunk, and murmuring incoherently. When she spoke to him he showed no sign of comprehension. Sing-hi stood by while she went to the medicine-chest and took out a bottle of sweet spirits of nitre. To him she explained what dose he was to give the patient, and the Chinaman nodded comprehendingly; he had already proved himself a conscientious and trustworthy sick-nurse, albeit possessed of no initiative. He would have gone on pouring medicine down the Captain's throat at intervals long after the latter was dead, unless given instructions to the contrary.

Her next visit was to Smith, who, as Sing-hi had as much as he could do in the cabin, was being attended by one of the deck-hands.

"What cher!" he exclaimed genially as she entered, "how's the old man this morning?"

"In the hot stage now," answered the girl. "But how are you?"

"Not so dusty considerin'. It's a bit orf, though, lying here on a shelf like a bloomin' parcel that's been left till called for."

"But you're not in pain?"

"Oh, nothing to make a shout about. But how are you getting on with the crew? I've been expectin' mutiny ever since the skipper was knocked out."

"I don't think there's much fear of that," answered the girl, and described her interview with the bos'n on the preceding evening.

"You see," she concluded, "the men are helpless."

"There's something in that," Smith admitted. "By crikey, you're a bloomin' knock-out, and no kid," he added admiringly.

"I must leave you now," she said, going to the door, "but I'll look in again later on."

"Right you are, sir," replied the patient jocularly.

When she entered the foc'sle to see the injured quartermaster some of the men, impelled by a rude courtesy, rose to their feet, but there were others who regarded her with an air of aloofness which almost amounted to defiance. Having ascertained that the patient was progressing as favourably as could be expected, she left the foc'sle and was met on the for'ad deck by the bos'n, who appeared to be in an agitated state of mind.

"Been looking for you everywhere, Miss," he said breathlessly. "Didn't you 'ear the gun?"

"Gun! What gun?"

"A signal from somewheres astern. Struck me it might be the _Satellite_ in trouble, Miss."

The only thing to do under the circ.u.mstances was to search for the vessel in distress. The girl went on the bridge, and, telling the quartermaster to stand aside, took the wheel herself. At the same moment she heard the distant boom of a gun, obviously a signal for help. It now became necessary to bring the _Hawk_ round in a semi-circle and this, in such a sea, was a task which called for extremely nice judgment and skilful seamanship. Yet the amazing young woman accomplished it without mishap, though once, when broadside on to a beam sea, those on board experienced a few nasty moments with a solid mountain of green water towering above them, and looking as if it must fall upon the ship and crush her under its stupendous weight.

"S'truth!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the bos'n softly when the steamer's nose swung round to meet the oncoming rollers, "that was touch-and-go if you like.

But she can 'andle a boat, can that gal."

And the carpenter, who stood near him, agreed.

Suddenly the look-out shouted "Ship on the port bow!" and, giving the wheel to the quartermaster, Dora Fletcher s.n.a.t.c.hed up the gla.s.ses and looked in the direction indicated. There, sure enough, was a vessel which looked remarkably like the _Satellite_, but, most amazing thing of all, _she was not rolling_, and the seas were breaking clean over her.

In a flash the girl divined what had happened; the gunboat had struck some uncharted reef and was firmly wedged aground. Presumably, therefore, she was making water fast and the only thing to do was to get the crew and prisoners off as quickly as possible.

"Signal we're coming to her a.s.sistance," said the girl, and the bos'n hoisted the flags, H.F. The reply came immediately, "Want a tow, no damage."

"Gawd, she must 'ave struck a feather piller instead o' a reef,"

commented the bos'n _sotto voce_, as he communicated the reply to Miss Fletcher.

Slowly the _Hawk_ bore down to leeward of the stranded vessel, signalling the _Satellite_ to send a boat with tow-lines, for it was far too perilous to come near enough for the lines to be thrown from one ship to the other. Thanks to Mr. d.y.k.es's foresight in having thrown out oil-bags, the sea around the _Satellite_ had subsided considerably and a boat was lowered without much difficulty. But as soon as she got outside the oil radius the frail c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l of a boat was tossed about like a cork, and more than once it looked as if she must inevitably be swamped and capsized. But she fought her way manfully, and at last came within hailing distance of the _Hawk_.

"Stand off!" shouted the girl through a megaphone. "Heave from where you are."

The wisdom of this order was apparent to all, for, had the boat come much nearer or attempted to get alongside, she would almost certainly have been swept against the steamer and crushed to pieces. So while the crew kept her head-on to the sea, the man in the bows waited for a favourable opportunity. It came when the boat was carried upwards on the crest of a huge wave till on a level with the _Hawk's_ bridge; then he stood up, and, swinging one of the lines round his head, gave it a cast. The thin rope leapt through the air in a long, sinuous curve, and descended on the steamer's deck, where it was promptly caught and secured to the drum of a steam-winch. Then ensued another period of tense waiting before a chance came to send the other line aboard; but it was successfully accomplished at last, and the boat started on its return journey.

As soon as the second line had been secured the steam-winches were started and began to wind in the lines until the hawsers appeared under the _Hawk's_ stern, one on each side.