But the plight of its occupants was terrible. Lashed to the yielding structure by cords, they were alternately flung violently upwards and then cast down to be swamped, choked and half-stunned by the falling mountains of water. As for the rescued man, who had also been lashed to the machine, it was impossible to tell whether he was dead or alive, and to Lawless, who expected every moment to be their last, it didn't seem to matter much either way. So the night passed and dawn--cold, cheerless and desolate--began to break at last upon that wild waste of storm-tossed waters; a running sea of dull, greenish-grey with great ridges of seething foam rushing upon one another in serried ranks like the battalions of a devouring army. And amidst that roaring, pitiless flood there floated the battered wreck of the seaplane. Both Lawless and Cassidy, as well as their passenger, were unconscious, and, but for the fact that they were lashed to the machine, would have been swallowed up in the boiling seas long ago. In this condition they were seen and picked up by the gunboat _Panther_, which had been sent out to search for the survivors of the _Nimrod_. All three were still unconscious when, after great difficulty owing to the heavy seas, they were conveyed on board the warship. When Lawless at last opened his eyes he found himself lying in an unfamiliar cabin, and it was some minutes before he realised what must have happened. He was struggling to recall the terrible events preceding his lapse into unconsciousness, when the cabin door opened and a young man in the uniform of a naval surgeon entered. "Well, how do you feel?" asked the latter, seeing that Lawless was looking about him. "Don't quite know," answered the Lieutenant. "I'm still a bit foggy in my mind." "I don't wonder at it, judging from what your mechanic has told me. He's a tough customer and no mistake; came to in less than an hour after you were all rescued." "Then how long have I been unconscious?" asked the Lieutenant. "Ever since you were picked up, and that's nearly four hours ago. We shall reach Plymouth about midday, I expect." In due course the _Panther_ arrived at Plymouth, and, just as Lawless was about to board the steam pinnace that was to take him ashore, the man he had rescued came up. "This is the first opportunity I have had, sir, of thanking you," he said. "You have saved----" "Oh, never mind about that," interrupted the Lieutenant. "Are you coming ashore?" "Yes----" The man hesitated a minute, and went on a little awkwardly. "The fact is, I'm in rather a hole. All my money and papers went down in the _Nimrod_, and I haven't a cent to bless myself with. I hate to ask you such a thing, but if you could lend me a fiver I should be deeply grateful. Here is my card." He handed Lawless a visiting card on which was inscribed "John H. Smythe, Seattle."