Strangely enough, though the swimmers spoke to each other occasionally, none now referred to the dastardly conduct of the enemy in setting them thus adrift to drown. "You are cold, my dear, I know," said the Englishman to his wife. "Are you suffering otherwise?" "No; but though I would not willingly drown myself, I shall not be sorry when we give up and go down." "Had I felt that way the last time I found myself in the water," spoke up Dave, "I would not be here now." "You had on a life belt. Now none of us has," answered the Englishwoman, her teeth chattering. "We cannot last long." "After my last experience, madam," Dave assured her, "I shall never dare say that as long as life lasts." "Why not face facts calmly?" she asked. "Probably I shall last a quarter of an hour before I die of cold. I may survive for twenty minutes or a little longer. You are strong, and may keep up for an hour or more. What can possibly come to our aid in that short time?" "Who can say?" was Dave's counter-question. For some time, they swam in silence. They did not attempt to make progress. Motion enough to keep afloat was all that was called for. All at once Dave wondered whether his eyes were playing him tricks, or whether he really saw the top of a conning tower approaching him. It was not likely that the enemy would remain about, and come back to see how it fared with the victims of their cruelty. Then the something in the water took on another vague shape. Darrin shook his head in an effort to get the water out of his eyes. He peered again. The shape, whatever it was, and if it really existed, was beginning to get on his nerves. It seemed to come nearer. "Captain Kennor!" called Darrin, sharply. "Aye!" responded the Dane. "Are you still swimming strongly?" "Aye!" "Then will you swim ahead and see what it is that my eyes show me on the water?" "Oh, aye!" With lusty strokes the Dane swam around him, and then ahead. "A little more to the left!" called Dave. Then Captain Kennor believed that he saw it, too, and headed straight for the object. Getting nearer he sent back a real cheer. "What is it?" Darrin called. "A spar!" "Any size?" "Large enough us to hold all up! Swim dis vay! Alone, can I hardly push it to you." Neither Dave nor the Englishman needed urging. They swam, still bearing the woman between them. The sight of the Dane ahead of them holding to the spar with one arm, and holding up the other hand, heartened them wonderfully. Soon all three had gained the spar, and Captain Kennor, drawing a cord from his pocket, soon succeeded in lashing the Englishwoman so securely to the spar that she could not slip away and perish. "Now, you will remember what I said about not giving up," Dave reminded his companions. "Why, yes, I am buoyed up, and perhaps you men can manage to hold on, also," admitted the woman. "Yet we must freeze to death." "We will still dare to hope," Darrin replied, calmly.