Let them know a poor girl is here in unheard-of, unfathomable misery--here, in the middle of this awful ocean." Hazel sighed deeply.

"No ships seem to pass within sight of us," he muttered.
"What does that matter to _you ?_ You are not a common man; you are an inventor.

Rouse all the powers of your mind.

There must be some way.
Think for me.

THINK! THINK! or my blood will be on your head." Hazel turned pale and put his head in his hands, and tried to think.
She leaned toward him with great flashing eyes of purest hazel.
The problem dropped from his lips a syllable at a time.