Larmor clapped his poor hands and bowed graciously.

Two minutes, three minutes, five minutes they waited; no reply came.

With steadiness born of grim despair the doctor sent away another rocket.
With fiercely eager eyes he and Larmor strove to pierce the lashing mist, and then!--oh, yes, the long crimson stream flew, wavered in the gale, and broke into scattered star-drift.

Larmor and the doctor put their arms round each other and sobbed.

Then they told poor death-like Withers, and his wan eyes flickered with the faint image of a smile.
Ferrier gave him the remainder of the wine, and the helpless seaman patted his benefactor's hand like a pleased child.
The gale dropped as suddenly as it had risen, but it left an immense smooth sea behind, for the whole impetus of two successive breezes had set the surface water hurling along, and it mostly takes a day to smooth the tumult down.
To say that the _Haughty Belle_ was in danger would be to put the matter mildly; the wonder was that she did not settle sooner.