Presently the pilot said: "By George, yonder comes the Amaranth!" A spark appeared, close to the water, several miles down the river.

The pilot took his glass and looked at it steadily for a moment, and said, chiefly to himself: "It can't be the Blue Wing.

She couldn't pick us up this way.

It's the Amaranth, sure!" He bent over a speaking tube and said: "Who's on watch down there ?" A hollow, unhuman voice rumbled up through the tube in answer: "I am.

Second engineer." "Good! You want to stir your stumps, now, Harry--the Amaranth's just turned the point--and she's just a--humping herself, too!" The pilot took hold of a rope that stretched out forward, jerked it twice, and two mellow strokes of the big bell responded.