"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 assembled 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 attitude of alertness on the bridge, were sustaining between them a conversation which vaguely suggested to Hughie a carefully rehearsed "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.